A Calm In The Storm
by Tuesday101
Summary: The sequel to An Ember In The Ashes. Laia and Elias are on the run from the empire, racing against the clock to save Darin. Meanwhile, Marcus discovers his new power as Emperor.
1. I: Laia

**I: Laia**

My mind races with questions as we dash through endless tunnels of darkness. I have no perception of time down here. Has it been seconds? Minutes? Hours? Every inch of my body aches and begs for rest. But we can't stop; if we stop they find us.

Elias tugs my hand harder, warning there is a turn coming up. We bank right, my thin shoes crunching against the ground. Shivers creep up my spine at the thought of what my feet could have landed on. I force my mind to focus on something else.

Elias. The pressure of his hand is warm and strong in mine. He didn't even hesitate when he grabbed my hand. When we kissed he didn't hesitate ether. I haven't let myself even begin to think about that moment since it happened. The shivers return, snaking their way up my back and to the ends of my fingertips. I remember the pressure of his lips on mine, his hands, roaming up and down my body. _But he broke away,_ I remind myself. _He ended it._

I shake my head forcing the memories away. Not here, not now, do I want to reflect on that kiss. Keenan's face flashes in my mind along with the words from the Augur. _Your heart wants Keenan, and yet your body is alight when Elias Veturius is near._ Keenan, with his brilliant red hair and chestnut eyes, any girl would swoon over him. So why do I have to keep reminding myself that I want him?

A sharp pain explodes through my body as I run into Elias's back. His other hand immediately shifts to my mouth stifling a groan. "Not a sound," he whispers against my ear before pushing me against the tunnel wall. Heat rushes through my body as he presses up against me. My fabric of my dress abruptly seems very thin. At first there is only silence, then the soft thud of footsteps echo through the tunnel. They're far away but approaching at a quick pace. Elias swears under his breath.

"Stay close to the wall. Do not engage. These people are trained to kill and they won't hesitate." His words make my muscles freeze. Even if I wanted to move I couldn't. Cold air brushes against my skin as he moves away. The footsteps stop and everything is silent. For a long moment I can't breathe until I hear a loud bang that echoes off the stone walls. Chaos erupts around me.

Bodies rush by me. Earsplitting thuds erupt through the tunnel. Elias could be anywhere in that mess. My legs shake against the rock, aching to run away from the danger. I grip the wall behind me until I can feel the blood drain from the vessels. _I can't run._ _I can't leave Elias behind like I left Darin._ I heave Elias's warning and stand as still as a statue.

Air rushes out of my lungs as a hand grabs at the fabric of my dress and throws me to the ground. Pain bursts through the back of my skull. The hands come at me again, this time pulling at my wrist and slamming me against the wall. Fabric is stuffed in my mouth before I can scream for Elias.

"Don't fight, it will only hurt more." The man's voice is rough in my ear and stubble along his face scratches on my cheek. I try to whimper, but it only comes out as a string of babbles. The man's fist is at my stomach before I can deflect the attack. Punches land on my stomach and side leaving behind throbbing pain. He grabs my face, the one hand still holding my wrists above my head. I twist and wither in his grasp. In this position I have no way to grab at the dagger strapped to my leg. Hot breath fills my ear and he whispers again, "I told you not to fight."

A scream escapes me as his nails dig into my wrists drawing blood. Another punch lands at my side and then I'm tasting blood. His hand comes to my cheek again and my head hits the tunnel wall with a blood curdling crack. For a terrifying moment I can't comprehend anything. Ringing fills my ears. Did I black out?

That's when I feel the hand on my thigh. It travels up my leg to lift the hem of my dress. All my fight is gone and all the energy I have left is going into trying to keep myself conscious. Maybe I should just let myself drift off. I wouldn't be able to feel it then, right? Marcus' face flashes behind my closed eyes. His breathe against my ear and his hands on my body. I feel blood drip down my arms as his grip tightens.

"Please," I whimper through the gag. His hand slams me into the wall again and I scream.

Then the hands are gone replaced by the freezing rush of air. I immediately fall to the ground, curling my bare legs up to my chest. _Move,_ a voice screams in my head. My hands shake as I place them on the cold ground. Something scurries across my hands, but the scream is caught in my throat. Blood is still dripping from my wrists leaving a trail as I crawl against the wall. _Keep moving,_ I repeat in my head

"Laia?"

My breathe catches in my throat and I yell out. "Elias!"

The stone cuts into my skin as I pull myself up. Darkness is still flooded my vision. Elias could be right in front of me or a million miles away for all I could see.

"Laia stay where you are, I'm coming."

Moments later a hand grasps at mine. A scream erupts in my throat and I claw at the person in front of me. My mouth is covered by a hand. _No, no, no!_ "Laia, it's me, it's Elias. It's okay. You can't make a sound, there might be more coming so we have to keep moving."

His voice calms my nerves and I nod in response, even though he can't see it. This time he doesn't grab my hand.

* * *

When we finally see light, my lungs are ready to give up. My feet ache and my head pounds. I haven't even thought about how bad my injuries might be, or Elias's. He took on that whole group of men alone, how is he still standing?

"Laia?"

My head snaps up and I blink in the dim light. His face is clearly outlined now in the pale sunlight shinning down from the grates above us. Blood trips onto his lips from his nose, which sits at an awkward angle. His eyes are wide set and staring straight at me, more importantly to my cheek. His hand is soft when it brushes against my cheek.

"He hurt you," Elias mumbles. I want to urge him to keep moving. But I'm frozen on the spot.

"I'm fine, really," I answer brushing away his hand. Elias presses his lips together but doesn't press me further.

"We need to get out of the city as quickly as possible. Just follow me and keep your head down." I nod and adjust the cloak on my shoulders. Elias breaths out a deep sigh then pulls the hood of my cloak up to cover my face.

Above the tunnels the sunlight is starting to fade, casting long shadows along the streets. Elias pulls me against his back and into the shadow of building. We move swiftly along the streets, sticking to the shadows and keeping our heads down. Buildings pass us by on either side and I start to wonder what the people inside are doing. By this hour Darin and I would have been cleaning up from dinner, placing the used dishes in the sink, wiping down the table. Nan and Pop would be in the next room. On good days Pop would pull out his old music player and dance with Nan between the couch's. Whenever they did this Darin and I would also pretend to wash the dishes, but instead end up watching from the doorway. Nan had always smiled her brightest then, dancing with Pop in the dying sunlight. My heart aches to be back there, secretly listening to the scratchy music and humming along.

Elias holds out his arm to block my path. "There's a patrol set up along the gate." I peek around his arm to see the barricade set up in front of the city gate. At least thirty men there, we'd never get through that.

"What do we do now?" I ask, pressing back against the wall. Elias's eyebrows pull together and he stares behind my head, thinking.

"We need to lay low, stay out of sight until the barricade is lifted," He answered.

"Where?"

He gulps and stares back down at me, his eyes are wide again. "I don't know, Laia." My heart drops to my stomach. We can't be on the streets, they'll find us. It's a miracle we haven't been spotted already.

"The tunnels? We could go back down there –."

"No, too many patrols."

My mind starts reeling. We can't stay on the streets or go back into the tunnels. And we can't let them find us or Drain is dead and so are we. I grasp at every passing thought. Elias breathe is harsh and steady against my ear. His chest rises heavily with his breathing. The scims at his back glint in the last rays of sunlight. The scims…

"Spiro Teluman!"

Elias's head jolts up and he stares at me. Is he angry? Relieved? His stare gives nothing away, just as a Mask is taught to do, hide their emotions. "How do you know him?

"The Commandant had me deliver some letters to him. My brother was also his apprentice before he was taken away."

Elias nodded slowly, tracking the pedestrians that walk by. "Do you know how to get there?"

I twist around in his grasp and stare at the street around us. 3rd street. Of all the streets in Serra I had never been on this street before, never had a need to leave the city.

"I don't know where we are, but if you got me to the square I'm sure I could get us there," I respond.

We keep to the shadows still. By the time we reach the square the sun has long gone down and patrols are stretched along the streets. Elias keeps pace beside me as we job through alleys until the smith's residence loams in front of us.

"Are you sure about this," Elias asks between breathes. Even running for this long had put a strain on him.

"Do we have another option?" Elias's eyes narrow, but he continues on the path to the house. I steal a glance at Elias. His jaw is hard set and his eyes are focused. I ache to hold his hand again, to feel his touch. Maybe when this is over, when Darin is safe...

Spiro Teluman appears behind the doorway. Without waiting for a response Elias elbows past him into the building and slams the door behind me.

"What is this?" Teluman asks. A dagger glints in between his fingers.

Elias glares at me, his arms crossed across his chest. "I'm sorry but we had nowhere else to go. We need somewhere to lay low. Just until the barricade clears," I say, taking a tentative step forward.

The dagger glints once more before Teluman slams it onto a table, rattling a stack of books. His eyes scan over Elias. His posture, his appearance, Teluman knows what he is. "They're hunting you," he concludes.

Elias growled quietly and Teluman raised an eyebrow. "Something like that."

When I turn back to Teluman after glaring at Elias I can feel daggers shooting at me from his eyes. "Please, you said you could help and we have no where less to -"

"There are lines," Teluman rumps. Elias steps forward; his fists tighten at his sides. If Elias goes at him we don't have any shoot at stay here, I realize. I step in front of Elias trying my best to block him despite my small frame which is easily dominated by his.

"Please," I beg. Teluman averts his gaze from Elias to me. "We need help."

A smile tingles on his lips, the same way Izzi's had the first time she saw the festival. "The scims."

Elias tenses behind me and growls, "What about them?"

Teluman picks the dagger up again and points to the handle of the blades sticking out above Elias' head. "I want them."

It takes every ounce of strength to keep Elias from charging at this man. "No way!"

"Relax Mask," Teluman sighs, enjoying the reaction he earns from Elias. "I only want to admire them. You'll get them back."

Elias's remains tense. Even without turning back I can tell he's staring down the smith. _C'mon Elias_. The silence stretches on until I'm about to jump in and answer for him.

"Alright," Elias mutters, unsheathing the blades and stepping around me. Balanced on his hands are most glorious blades I have seen. Black etchings run down the handles and curve up the blade. Each has gold incrusted in the web of designs and silver gem sited at the base of the handle. How does Elias possess such blades?

Teluman reaches out and runs a tentative hand along the length of one of the blades. Ruby blood glistens at his fingertip as it skids over the tip of the blade, but he only smiles wider. "Very well," the smith declares, retrieving the blades with steady hands. "Come with me."

Elias doesn't spare me a glance before following after Teluman. He leads us through a back hallway and out into the alley running along the stone building. With a glance back to make sure were still there he pulls away a tarp to relieve a set of wooden doors raised above the ground.

"My storage space," he explains while unlatching a key from the ring around his belt and jiggling it in the lock. "No one will come looking around in there. I'm the only one with a key." Teluman pulls open the doors with unexpected ease, and then climbs through the doorway and down the steps leading under the house. Elias follows grimily and I scurry after.

"It's the best I've got, can't risk keeping you in the house." Teluman walks around the space lighting up candles. Soon candle light eliminates the room in an orange glow. Boxes and crates are stacked along the walls in dusty heaps. A single table sits at the far end of the room. Even from behind Elias I can see the thick layer of dust and grim that has accumulated on its surface. A single window is positioned at the top of the wall behind us. Its pane, just like everything else down here, is dense with dirt.

"Thank you," I mumble from behind Elias. Teluman smiles gently at me then starts back up the steps. He turns back just before vanishing up the top steps.

"I'll come back with some food and blankets," He says. The smith opens his mouth like he wants to say more, but decides against. The doors behind us close with a creak and Elias and I are left alone.


	2. II: Helene

**II: Helene**

The sun rises earlier than normal. Every muscle in my body itches to get up and move, to do something, anything. My training gear from yesterday sits in a heap at the foot of my bed but I pull it on anyway, ignoring the stiffness of the material from my lack of care. The armory is empty when I get there. At nearly 5am all the students would still be asleep. Weapons of all variety are strung up along the walls. Without sparing at glance at the axe in corner, the one that I used to nearly take Elias's head off, I choose a practice scim. Its wooden texture feels familiar in my hand and already I am a little more relaxed. The weapon weighs far less than the battle scims, and is usually used for Yearling training, but never the less it gets the job down.

The training rooms are just as empty as the armory. Without meaning to I stop behind the training room door labeled 3. This was always Elias's favourite training room. He said it has the best view of the Bell Tower. He was never wrong. From the far window you could see all the way up the tower, on clear days you could even see the Skulls sneaking around up top. _Maybe he'll be in there_ , I imagine. _I'll open the door and he'll mock me, with grin, that I'm always late._

But that's just a fantasy. He's not in that training room and he never will be again. Despite that my hand reaches out to linger against the knob. It's cold. No one has been in there in a while. I drop my hand and start back down the hall, instead choosing one of the training rooms that face the Barracks.

An hour later sweat rolls down my forehead in beads. Loose pieces of blonde hair fall free from my braid and into my face. The itch in my muscles has gone away, replaced by a dull satisfying ache. Stuffing has escaped from a gash in the battle dummy, coating the space around it in a thin layer of fuzz. I smile stupidly, despite myself, remembering when Leander and Elias made a competition out of who could pop off its eye with a single arrow. Shivers start to crawl up my spine rapidly. I don't have to turn around to know what's waiting for me.

"I would make a much better opponent then that sad dummy."

When nearly the entire academy is still asleep Marcus _has_ to be and about. I ignore his comment, occupying my hands by repositioning the dummy for another attack.

"Come on Aquilla, don't you want a challenge," Marcus questions. His voice is unwavering and strong. He knows he has all the power. A dagger whizzes by my right ear and hits its mark in the dummies chest, right above where its heart would be. "You will answer your Emperor, Blood Shrike."

My title spills out of his mouth like poison. The scim in my hand creaks and nearly snaps in my grasp.

"Have something to say, Helene."

I stay frozen, my back turned to him. If I see his face I might be tempted to break it. Another dagger sails through the air hitting below in the other knife. The heart. I small strand of my pale hair shimmers in the morning sun as it drifts to the floor.

"I said answer me!"

I whirl on him. Marcus leans against the doorway, smirking, twirling another dagger against the tip of his finger. "Marcus," I spat.

"Emperor," He corrects pointing the tip of the dagger to my forehead. Marcus holds my gazing, challenging me. But I don't want to play this game with him.

"What do you want? Don't you have some _business_ that needs the attention of the Emperor?" He snickers as I turn back around and start repositioning the dummy again.

"I can't check up on my Second?" The floor creaks as he takes a step into the training room. The dummy provides little resistance as I yank the dagger out of its chest and whirl around. The blade sinks into the wooden wall behind Marcus, less than an inch from hitting his head. His gaze holds firm on my mine. An eyebrow arches and he replies without a glance to the dagger behind him, "You missed."

"Lucky for you I did." He makes a noise somewhere between a hiss and chuckle that makes my skin crawl. "Next time I won't."

He lunges toward me, blade raised to my throat, but I'm expecting it. The second dagger from the dummy is already in my hand and pressed against Marcus's side before has time to react. "I see how it is," he mutters. Even with the blade a line slice away from cutting open his side he has the nerve to glance over me up and down. _If Elias were here he'd kick Marcus's ass from here to Antium just for looking at me like that._

But he' not, and I don't need him to fight my battles.

"You underestimate me," I mutter back, forcing all my anger into the words.

Marcus's hair flops to the side as he tilts his head and smiles out of the corner of his mouth. "Just like Elias did."

He's taunting me. Whatever I do, whatever I threaten him with, he knows I could never go through with it. He's untouchable. Being his second in command means nothing; they'll still whip my back and break my bones if I lay finger in harm's way to the precious Emperor. I withdraw the dagger, letting it clatter to the floor. His smile grows. Marcus doesn't say anything; he knows nothing needs to be said. Despite all the fighting he still has me wrapped around his finger.

"Such as shame, really." My lips press in a thin line. "To have your skin beaten and scared, you would have made an exquisite pet." The words echo in the room making me gag. My cheeks liner with his stone heavy touch as his fingertips scrape up to rub a piece of my hair behind his finger tips. "Exquisite."

I fight to erger to break his nose. When his fingers fall away I can still feel the ghost of his touch.

Marcus bends down and when he straights back up, the long forgotten dagger is balanced in one hand. His gaze drops to the still untouched dagger for a few moments before shrugs and sheaths it in his belt. I don't flinch when his hand reaches back up below my chin. Or when he tips my face upward so I have to glare down my nose at him.

"You're always going to be my Second," he shouts. "Like it or not, so you better get used to it." I stare back at him, unwilling to say uncle. "I hold all the power here, you are _my_ second -."

Marcus shuts his mouth and forms a frowns, then drops his hand away. A servant boy stands at the door to the training room looking like he wants to wet himself.

"What!" Marcus keeps his back to the boy.

The servants trembling increases until I can see his knees shaking with the effort to keep himself upright. "The Com -Commandant requested y-your presence," he pauses. "Sir Emperor."

"I'm a little busy here," Marcus snarls glancing down at the dagger as if thinking about slicing it across the boy's throat to stop the annoying trembling. Is he?

"S-She insisted, Sir."

Marcus glares out of the corner of his eye at the shaking kid. "Very well." He gazes back at me. "It seems I have _business_ that needs the attention of the _Emperor_. Enjoy day, Helene." He pauses before addressing me by my name. The words still feel like acid on my skin. Without a sound, he slides out of the room, leaving me finally able to breathe.


	3. III: Elias

**III: Elias**

Thanks to few 'well loved blankets' and change of clothes Laia's teeth had finally stopped chattering. Across the room she sat curled up among an oversized pile of wool blankets, nursing a steaming mug of tea. The smith had returned a while back bearing with a load of blankets, spare clothes, stale food, and two hot mugs of tea.

"It can get pretty cold down here," he had said."If you want to change clothe you can leave the dirty ones at the top of the stairs and I'll see to it that they get thrown in with the next washing. The maid comes by once a week." He promptly shut the door hard enough to blow out a few candles.

While I was grateful for the hot beverage I also despised tea. Unless of course it had a mountain of sugar mixed in and enough cream to flood a village. Never the less the mug warmed up my numb fingertips.

"Are you just going to hold it," Laia said amidst the heap of blankets. Muffled by the layers of wool, her voice sounded quiet and mumbled. Nothing like the voice of the girl who had staged and explosion of the bell tower to see to it that my head was still attached to my body.

I shook my head. "I don't like tea." I set the mug down, my fingers getting too hot.

Her eyebrows pulled together. Maybe she was trying to decide why we were talking about tea when there's much more important things to discuss. Such as how she plans to break us in to save Darin. "You should try it," she finally decided. "It's quite good."

I grimaced, but took a sip anyway. The hot liquid burned down my throat. Shaking my head I set the cup back down and decided the conversation desperately needed to be changed. "Do you have a plan?"

She looked started, golden eyes wide as the sun. "Of course." Her voice wavered.

"Then tell, we're not going anywhere any time soon."

Laia kept her face as straight as possible while she explained how she had learned about the prison and its prisoners. Though no where I'm there did I hear anything of how we were going to break in to the damn building. "Is that all you've got," I asked.

Her hair fell into her hair as she nodded. "It's not much but I figure once we get there and -."

"It's not anything." I scoffed. "Knowing an approximation of how many guards are staffed is nothing. And even so, with our escape there's bound to be advanced security, possibly even Mask's." Laia cringed when I said 'Mask's' as if I wasn't one. As if I was't one once before, corrected myself. Never again would I let the silver mask bind to my skin. I was free from it.

"Well it's better than nothing." She yelled, climbing out from under the pile of blankets. The act was meant to make her seem stronger, but it did the opposite. Climbing out of the blankets just empathized how small she really was. The white night shirt provided by the Smith hung off her like a drying rack and the black shorts came low past her knees. It wasn't that she was very short, but those weeks as a slave, and growing up in a household constantly low on food certainly showed through. Some part of me ached for her. I knew she was strong, she knew she was strong, but everyone else just saw a broken girl.

Suddenly I didn't feel the need to argue about plans or lack of there for. I held her gaze until she broke off from her rant about pre-planning and value of Intel. "Your right," I said. The corners of her mouth dropped. "We'll manage. And a little bit of information is better than nothing."

Laia, seeming to understand my lack of interest in continuing the conversation, nodded. She shifted awkwardly on feet before saying, "We should eat something."

I muttered an agreement, even though I had no interest in putting that stale bread in my mouth. She crossed over to the small platter set atop a few boxes and started cutting slices of cheese. The room was erie silent except for the occasional tap against the platter.

"Where did you learn to read?"

Her shoulders tensed but the tapping didn't falter. "What are you talking about," she answered, slamming the knife down too hard on the cheese. Great, another argument.

"You were reading street signs and the lettering on those boxes earlier," I answered. Couldn't have been that entertaining to read though, I mused. Most of the boxes down here had shipping labels curled over with age, or some with so much dirty it was impossible to read what it had once held.

Laia paused the cutting for a moment before answering. "My brother mostly. But he was taught by my parents before they..." She paused again and didn't continue. The knife clattered against the tray as she put it down and glanced behind her to me. I gave her a look of understanding which she seemed to grasp since her shoulders lowered a bit and she blew out a long breathe.

"My Nan and Pop didn't read or write much, just enough to get by. But most scholars won't ever learn to read or write a single word in their life." I wasn't sure if she was trying to make me feel guilty of not, but if she was she had succeeded. "Darin used to _borrow_ booksfrom the neighbours for me to practice with."

A tiny smile tugged at the corner of my mouth. "I used to _borrow_ extra food when I was a Yearling." She glanced back at me with an expression of surprise. "Granted Helene would eat most of it."

Laia blinked. The corner of mouth tugged upwards but she didn't say anything else. Instead she started slicing off chunks of stale bread. The silence that followed wasn't tense like before. Instead it had shifted to something somber.

"Here, let me help," I said, standing up from the cold floor. The blanket fell off my shoulders and landed in a heap at my feet.

"It's fine. It's only cutting up some food anyway." She gazed back again and her eyes widened. The knife stilled in her hand. Laia mumbled a curse then dropped then knife back on the tray. I was about to ask what the deal was until I felt the steady trickle of blood along my abdomen. The blood had already soaked through the makeshift bandage I had crated back in the tunnel.

"I'm fine it's not a bad cut," I said. I was lying.

Laia's head was shaking at a rapid pace. "You should have said something. Teluman could have brought something or -."

"The Smith couldn't have done anything," I mumbled. The cut was starting to throb under the make shift bandage. "It's not bad anyway, just a little blood."

Based on the look Laia gave she knew I was lying again. "Sit down," she ordered using the same voice she had back under the stage at Blackcliff. I stumbled against a crate and lowered myself down to the floor. The piercing cold stung my hands and legs as I sat down, but it was nothing compared to the fire I was now feeling along my abdomen. Maybe standing up so quickly hadn't been the best idea.

Laia scurried over. Her gaze landed tentatively on my stomach before she said,"Take your shirt off." My eyebrows shot up, but I reached for the hem of my shirt. I had discarded my battle armour long ago. It peeled away, the bottom corner soaked with blood, my blood. Laia cringed and laid a gentle finger against the blood soaked strip of cloth along my abdomen. She traced the cloth along to the knot.

"This needs to come off." She said. She didn't wait for a response before uncurling the cloth and peeling it away. The cut was raged across my stomach, slicing from around my side to just below my belly button. Laia cursed again. Blood was oozing out and splattering against the cement floor.

"See not that bad." It was a huge lie. I had been worse before, but this certainly wasn't a minor cut. Laia wasn't fazed by my attempted humor.

"Okay, we need to clean this out then stitch it back up and re bandage it. Some peroxide and bloodroot serum would be good too," Laia muttered, assessing the damage. Her touch sent shivers through the rest of my body. I started to interject but she glared again. "This will get infected of its not properly treated and _you_ need to take me to Darin."

She stood on shaky legs and glanced back down at me. "Keep this pressed to the wound and don't move," she handed me the shirt I had on earlier. Seeing as how it was already ruined with blood...

"And where you plan on going," I snapped. Laia's gaze drifted to the tiny dirty clouded window. "No! I won't let you."

"And what are you going to do about it," she snarled. "You need that wound treated. Sooner rather then later."

"Then we'll wait for the Smith to come back again."

"That could be days! You would bleed out long before then!"

I shook my head. "We'll your not going out there. Too risky. There's Mask's crawling all over the streets."

"I don't plan to go in the streets," she muttered crossing her arms. "I look around in Teluman's house. He's bound to have something in there."

"It's still too -." She was already at the window. The latch swung open with ease and she pushed the glass panel outward enough for her to slide through. Standing on a pile of boxes I watched her feet disappear through the window.


	4. IV: Laia

**IV: Laia**

There's an elegant sword strung up on the far wall, its metal glistening into my eyes. Beside it are numerous blades and other weapon, each displayed with care and precision. I take a gentle step away from the wall praying the floor doesn't make a sound. It doesn't. Set against the wall is bulky oak desk, the surface spread across with documents, metal fragments and long old coffee mugs. The rest of the room is packed with shelves, and books, and more weapons for display. _His office,_ I wonder. The door, matching the same oak wood as the desk, is pushed open enough for me to see into the corridor. I absent mindedly wonder how big this house is or where the Smith would keep any medical kits.

"I already sent my decline. I'd appreciate not to be bothered again." Telluman's voice drifted up the corridor and I froze against the door holding my breath.

A quiet voiced followed, barely loud enough for me to hear. "The Emperor himself -."

"I don't care if the Emperor himself sent you. You have my answer now get of my property," Teluman roared loud enough to scare the mice back into hiding. No voice followed and I silently wondered if he or she was contemplating reminding the Smith that all property was owned by the Emperor. Apparently they decided not to as a loud bang echoed through the house which could only be the slamming of a door. I breathe a sigh of relief and relax against the door. A squeak echoes through the corridor and the door falls completely open. I yelp - not my best moment - and catch myself against the far wall of the corridor just in time to keep my nose in tacked.

"Idiot", I mutter.

"Excuse me?" I yelp again and nearly drop my hands from the wall for my nose to hit the wall. But I don't. The Smith is leaning against the doorway of the corridor, blocking my view to the front door and work tables.

"What," I stamper attempting to convince my heart to slow down.

"You're calling me an idiot. Meanwhile here you are - against best judgments I might add - sneaking around _my_ house."

My lips part but no sound departs. I don't know what to say. Is he going to throw us out? Is he going to turn us over to the Mask's? What about Elias's injuries, he won't make it past the city walls...

Telluman's mouth quirks and I realize the bastard is smiling. My eyes widen to the size of serving plate. I contemplate smacking him, but my pervious questions still stand.

"I'm not going say that it was a smart decision to sneak up here," Telluman pauses. His egotistic smile is still plastered on his face. "Why did you come up here?"

I gulp and contemplate lying, but what's the point. "Elias was hurt - during your escape. He needs medicine and bandages." My words catch in my throat. "Please, he'll bleed out."

Telluman's smile vanishes and he pushes on the wall, mumbling something about wrinkle lines and kids causing trouble. It is only then that I realize how tired he looks. Elias and I had only been down there for a few hours at most and the Smith already looks years older.

"Alright," he mutters absentmindedly. "I know I have some medical kits around here somewhere." he scratches the top of his head. "I won't be able to help much; I don't have any medical training. I could see about getting -."

"Thank you," I cut in, my smile as bright as I could make it. The Smith smiles back, maybe just as a habit, and looks behind him to the mess of work tables and half finished projects. He wipes his hands on the grease stained apron around his waist.

"I'll check there," his head jerks to the work table. "Can you check the bathroom down the hall and that office?"

I nod and run down the corridor without thinking. The bathroom is the first door on the left. It's small and humid but still a million times better than anything I had at before. Inside a wooden cabinet is an array of shampoos, fancy soaps, and an abundance of sketchy hair products. A laugh catches in my throat. I analyze a glass bottle with a gel like substance that claims to prompt 'decreasing frizz and 'brings body back to your luscious locks.' My limp hair hangs in my face and I think about stealing the bottle. My hair could use some 'body', whatever that means.

Besides the mass amounts of hair products and over prices soaps there's nothing of use in the bathroom. I trace my steps back down the corridor until I'm back at the office, the wooden door still slightly ajar. The sounds of crashing and shuffling fill my ears from the main room where the Smith is searching. The office is just as I had left it: a mess. The open window has blown stacks of paper around the room, only to reveal another layer of documents stained with coffee rings. The desk is an absolute mess to look through. Every drawer is stuffed the brim with useless junk and scrap metal. After shoving away all the stacks of paper, and finally seeing the desk top, I decided the desk would yield nothing helpful.

The books shelf in the corner wasn't much better, in fact it was worse. Books of every shape and size litter the shelves, occupying every visible space. Most had water marks or extra lettering between the margins. Not that the letting did much the, Smith's handwritten was utterly illegible.

That's when it hits me like a punch in the gut. Elias is down in that basement cellar, all alone, bleeding. I instantly feel shame for leaving him, despite the knowledge that he can and will take care of himself. The knife twists in my gut further and I nearly double over. _He'll be fine. He'll be fine._ _We'll both be fine._

It takes approximately all my energy to force by body back up and focus my brain on the task at hand. I'm done being gentle with the Smith's mess of an office. I toss papers in every which way, pull open drawers, and chuck books across the room. Until there it is, shoved deep in a dusty box in the closet waiting to be used. I practically start crying on the spot. _He will be fine._

The kit is heavy in my hands while I brush dust of the stretched shirt. "I found the med kit," I shout down the corridor. No response. I poke my head out the corridor, "Do you have any bloodroot? I think it would really help him."

Still no response. Tingles go up my spine as the silence cuts through the corridor. Something is wrong. Something is very wrong. The wall presses into my back. My breathing is shallow and uneven. My gaze shifts to the elegant sword, the metal still glistening in the bright sunlight.

A wretched part of me aches to set down the sword and run to save myself, but instead I compel myself to remember that night with Elias. The feather light kisses he left along my lips and his gentle hands pulling me in. That wretched part dies out and all that's left is the strength to step out of the office and face the danger.

What awaits me is a horror. Kneeling on the floor, gagged and hands tied, is the Smith, his aged eyes gazing at me in terror. Standing behind the smith is a Mask.

* * *

Every inch of my blood is frozen. The sword hangs limp in my hand. A vicious smile crosses the Mask's face.

"It's about time you joined us." He sounded board. All I could do was blink. "Your friend here isn't a very good conversationalist."

Telluman jerked against his ties and the Mask has a knife to his throat instantly. "Shh. Now, now, that's no way to behave," The Mask looks up to me. "We have company." Scarlett blood blooms along Telluman's neck in a thin line as the Mask slides the knife away. The Mask straightens up and starts cleaning the blade of the knife along his cloak.

I manage a dry gulp. The Mask jerks his head up, seeming to have forgotten about my presence. A single eyebrow arches.

"Now what have you got there?" I want desperately for my feet to move as the Mask starts walking towards me, but they won't move. I'm planted in place. He is close enough now for me to smell his sweat and the stale tang of blood. My senses rebel. A rough hand grabs at mine and my breathing stops, but he only grabs at the sword. I let him take it.

"Good design, nice balance." The Mask examines the blade the same way the Smith had with Elias's blades. _Elias! Is he still in the cellar? Is he safe? Have the Mask's found him?_

"- craftsmanship like this since before my Senior Skull year." Telluman has gone slack in his bindings. The Mask's dark eyes pierce into mine from behind its mask. A flick of amusement crosses his face. He bounces the blade between his hands for a few more seconds before slamming it into the floor, blade first. "You have nothing to fear darling."

The dull thuds of the Mask's boots resonate with the house as he takes the few the steps to me until he is close enough so we are sharing oxygen. His breath wrecks of smoke. I want to throw up. I want so badly to turn away and chuck out all my stomach contents away until my stomach stops churning. When his hand grasps my left wrist and I finally find the strength to move. I jerk away from his grip, aiming my other fist to his face, but the Mask is much stronger than me. He bangs my left wrist against the wall behind me. With a tight grip on my right fist he starts twisting. I scream.

"Would like me to stop," He breathes in my ear. The Mask says this with a smile on his face. My lips stay sealed shut. I refuse to give him the satisfaction. The Mask laughs or what could be passed off as a laugh, and twists my limp fist above my head to join my other hand.

"It _was_ quite rude of you to keep us waiting," He snarls. "Perhaps you need to be taught better."

Moist breath rubs against my neck. With one hand holding my wrists the other drops to my waist. _No, not this again_ , I beg. _Please not this._ His gloved hand drifts downward and silver grin cuts across his features. _No one is going to save me,_ I realize. Elias must still be in the cellar and the Smith is tied up. _No one is going to save me._

"Such a lovely face." His hand strokes my cheek and I yank my head away as far as I can. The hand goes back to my thigh.

"No," I mumble quietly enough that the syllables barely escape my mouth.

"What," The Mask sneers. The loud of his voice makes me recoil again. "What did you say?"

"No," I repeat louder. "I said no."

Before I know what's happening my head is slammed back into the wall. I hear the crack of my skull as it hits the wall. "How dare you," he spats in my face. "Who do you think you are?" Over the Mask's shoulder Telluman is staring in disarray. Of course he is, who would be stupid enough to stand against a Mask.

"Ungrateful bitch," The Mask spats. Wet spray hits my face and I recoil against tightening hands. "You idiotic bitch." My head hits the wall again and everywhere goes burry for a moment. I'm convinced there is a skull shaped dent in the wall. When my vision focuses again I realize with a jolt how close he is. The thick panes of his face are prominent behind the mask, almost has if the Mask has become his skin. Has it?

"How dare you talk to me like that!" I squeeze my eyes shut. _No one is coming; no one is going to help me. I'm on my own._ When I open my eyes again he is close enough that I can see the individual colour flecks in his eyes. That distance is matched perfectly to my advantage. In one clean movement I ram my forehead against his. The Mask, not expecting the attack, stumbles back clutching the spot where our heads connected. All the weight of my body drops to the ground with the relief of being free. Behind the Mask Telluman is roaring against the gag and twisting in the ties, but I can't focus on him. I can't focus on the Mask, who is still bent over, or even my own hands in front of my face. My vision blurs in and out; light and shadows. Through the Smith's jumbled sounds I make out a single word.

Sword. _The Sword!_

I climb to feet and take a moment to balance myself before stumbling towards the sword which is still thrust into the floor. My hand has barely scraped the handle when a pair of hands seize my hips and yank me backwards into the floor. There's a sickening bang, which I presume is my head, _again_ , which makes up vision blur.

The Mask's silver face appears over mine. "Bitch," he sputters. A knife appears in his hand. Its fine tip presses against my neck and a single bead of blood drips down to my collarbone. "I should kill you right now." The blade digs in deeper. "I guess it's in your luck that the Emperor himself wants the pleasure of finishing you and that traitor off himself."

My heart stops. _He knows about Elias. Does that mean he knows where he is?_ The churning in my stomach starts again. I hadn't even considered that there might be more of them.

"Get up." I crawl to my feet, shaking. The Mask looks me up and down then grumbles, "You're not worth my time." I nearly sigh with relief.

He pushes my back and I catch myself before falling back down. The light and shadows are starting to refocus. I'm pushed to a kneel beside Telluman. A gag is placed around my head and my hands are tied behind my back. I don't fight him.

The Mask grumbles some before thumping across the room to the still standing sword. His dark cape billows behind him, drifting softly above the floor boards. Unfortunately that's where the softness ends. Every other surface of him is made of hard lines. The sharp cut of his jaw where the silver mask melds with skin…

With a shutter I realize I'm comparing him to Elias. But Elias isn't made of hard lines. He has a softness to him, one that he showed me that night I was awarded as his prize. On the outside he is the rigid, solid Mask he has yet to outgrow, but I know better. My head starts to pound violently and the bile begins rising in my throat. Instead I focus on the small differences: the hair colour, the eyes. Elias has striking grey eyes, where as this man has eyes the colour of darkness; pure darkness that can't be trusted.

He rips the sword free from the floor. A gaping hole remains at his feet. The Mask leans close to the blade as if he is transfixed by its presence. "Such talent going to waste," he says, drifting his gaze to Telluman. The Smith's head drops lower so his hair falls over his face.

"Agreed," a voice echo's behind me. I try to twist around but it's useless.

The Mask turns to stare behind me, an annoyed look on his face that immediately turns to a cruel smile. "Took you long enough."

"This one put up a fight."

The voice walks around in front of me and I scream through the gag. Hands bound behind his back, and blood seeping from the wound in his abdomen, is Elias. His head hangs low like the Smith's. His hair isn't long enough to cover his face so I can see his grim set expression. The voice, another Mask, tugs on the ropes binding Elias hard enough that I see the ties digging into his skin. Elias is pushed down to the floor beside me. His knees hit the floor with a loud thud. He grimaces.

"I sent the other patrol man to get more men and to send word to the Emperor." The voice, the second mask, glances back at me, then Telluman and raises and eyebrow in question. "They're harmless." _As if._

The second Mask tilts his head to the wall where indeed there is a dent. _What about that?_ The original Mask shrugs and starts flipping the sword in his hands. I can feel Elias's gaze on me but I refuse to meet it.

"What about the Smith? What do you we do with him?" They talk as if they are discussing where to bury the body.

"Relax. We'll turn them all in, might even get the prize money."

"You know that's not the case, Miller." That's his name, Miller. I mentally add it to my list of people to hate, and kill. Fortunately the latter list is very short, so far.

"Then we'll make it the case."

The second Mask mutters under his breath then asks if Miller has an extra blade. "That one," he gesture to Elias, "broke mine in a fight." They dance over his name like its poison.

I finally turn to Elias. His skin is the colour of snow and a thin sheen of sweat coats his forehead. _How did you manage to fight back?_ Elias leisurely lifts his head. The bleakness tells me everything; he doesn't think we're getting out of this. Miller throws his cape aside and pulls out a short blade from a strap on his thigh. I nearly cry out. _My dagger!_ I turn back to try and communicate my message to Elias but his head is dipped down again. He's running out of time.

My silent working is driven by the fear of being caught. Miller and the other Mask have their backs turned to us, but for how long? The bindings scrape against my skin and I almost have to pop my shoulder out of place to reach the blade. Inch by inch I pull it free of the strap until it's safely tucked in my hands. I twist my hands back around behind me and adjust my position so I can slide the blade under my legs if I need to hide it.

 _Fast and quiet. Fast and quite._

Telluman's head tilts upwards and his eyes widen at the sight of the blade against the ropes. He nods his head vigorously. _Faster._ We'll be okay, that's what I keep telling myself. We have a chance to get out of this. The ropes snap in my hands and with it the tension in my bones eases slightly. I toss the blade to Telluman who starts saw away at his own bindings.

"He should have been here by now," Miller says annoyed. He turns back to look at me, bored. I feel his eyes piercing into me as if he knows everything; as if he knows my bindings are off, or that Elias is quickly dying or that despite the harsh situation I want nothing more than to lean over and kiss Elias. I might not ever get to do that, not if we don't get out of here quickly.

"Patience," The second Mask mutters while checking out the array of messy work tables and unfinished weapons.

"I wasn't trained to have patience."

"Then you obviously weren't trained well," He snaps back. Miller, it seems, is the young and less experienced of the two.

"I trained alongside the Emperor himself!"

"That means nothing if you don't know how to handle _yourself_ on the battle field." Miller glares back at us as if he's embarrassed to be scowled on by a superior in front of our eyes.

"We aren't exactly on a battle field now are we," Miller says, proud of his comeback. The second Mask glares, his silver features displaying all the danger lurking behind his calm presence.

"No, Miller, I can't say we are that this moment. When we arrive back at Blackcliff I'll be sure to have it arranged though." Elias viably shutters at the name of the academy. He has as much desire to go back there as I do. Out of the corner of my eye I see the Smith's binding snap and drop free of his wrists. He slides the blade back along the floor to me. Miller is now positioned against the door frame of the corner, cleaning out the underside of his fingernails with a small blade, a blade probably designed for torture. The second Mask is still distracted by the documents and weapons. The line of sweat has increased on Elias's face. _He has a fever, the wound's infected._ I glance down at Elias's bindings then to the blade in my hand. There's no way for me to cut through his bindings without the Mask's noticing. He has to cut them himself.

He inclines his head just enough for me to see his eyes peeking out below his thick eyebrows. I do my best to gesture to the blade. He seems to cut the idea since he nods slowly and twists his hands to receive the dagger. The blade clatters to the floor just short of Elias's fingers. Shit.

Millers head tips up and he smirks at us as if things have finally started to get interesting. His steps vibrate the floor boards as he approaches. The second Mask doesn't spare a glance in our direction. He is halfway towards us before I decide to act. I lunge for the dagger at the same time as Telluman leaps up to tackle Miller. The Mask groans as he hits the floor, Telluman on top of him. In a single swipe I cut Elias's ropes, no longer caring about being silent. The second Mask has turned from examining a folder of documents. A childish smile crosses his silver face and he pulls out a long scim from his back. Elias tries to stand, but his feet give out under him.

"You shouldn't have done that girl," The second Mask snarls before leaping across the space that separates us. I duck down so the blade swings over my head. The Mask roars and charges again, the blade raised to my heart. My feet react, shoving the rest of my body to the right, but I was too slow. The scim blade slices into my shoulder. Not deep enough to cause any damage, but enough that it makes me cry out and bend towards the floor. Maybe I will vomit this time.

"Laia behind you." Elias has removed his gag and a blade that I recognize from one of the table dangles in his left hand. It's been broken in the middle leaving the blade short with monster like teeth at the end.

I whorl around just in time to dodge the next attack by the second Mask. I angle by body so this time when I dodge the attack Elias will be waiting. The Mask roars louder this time and charges for me, not noticing Elias behind me until it's too late. The rusty blade sinks into the Mask's chest through a gap in the armour only a former Mask would know about. A sickening crunch fills my ears as he twists the blade. Blood splatters against the floorboards as the Mask sinks to the floor, the blade still in his chest. I pull the gag off and let it drop around my neck.

"Elias?" His eyes barely lift to mine. He falls to the floor barely missing knocking his head against the corner of a table. "Elias!"

Sweat drips down his forehead in streams and his eyes are glazed over. _Shit, shit, shit._ "Elias its okay, we're getting out of here."

"You two need to get out of here now." The Smith looms over us, blood soaking all the way up to his elbows. Miller lays in a heap behind him, a mess of black armour and blood.

"Is he…"

The Smith shakes his head, "No, but he will be soon. Now you two need to leave. The rest of them will be here any minute."

A gap at Telluman. "What about you?"

He shakes his head again and stares sadly at Elias. "Don't worry about me. I'll be fine."

Elias's head stirs in my lap and I'm pulled back to reality. I feel useless "How? Where do we go?"

The Smith has moved across the room, leaving a wake of bloody footprints. "Follow that road," he points out the window to the road behind his house. "Take your fourth right and that will lead you to the Gate. Hide in a carriage to get through the wall, and then you're free."

Elias stirs again. I can't waste any more time. "Help me get him up," I gasp. Elias staggers on his feet for a few moments before bracing himself against the table. Blood seeps through his shirt. Telluman disappears down the corridor and appears again a moment later armed with two cloaks, new boots, a shoulder pack, and Elias's scims.

"You might need theses." He lays them gently against my palms and I help Elias strap them to his back.

"Why are you helping us," I ask, pulling on the fresh boots. I hadn't even noticed that during this whole thing my feet had been bare. Elias manages to get his boots and clock on fine without help.

"I'm not helping you." I start to interject, but then he holds up a hand. "I'm not helping you; I'm helping your brother."

All I do is nod. What can I say to that? Elias and I have come in here and, in a matter of mere hours, destroyed everything he has worked for.

"Thank you," I whisper. Elias mumbles thanks. I fear that that is the most he can say.

Telluman leads us back through the corridor to the door we first left from when he led us to the cellar. "Good luck," He smiles briefly shaking my hand. Elias braces himself against the open door, his breath heavy and laboured. We're already through the door before I turn back to the Smith.

"Come with us, please," I beg as a last ditch effort. The Smith merely shakes his head and closes the door behind us.

* * *

The square is packed with people. School kids, parents, and merchants all run rapid among the streets. Not one of them pays any attention to us. Beside me Elias is stumbling along barely keeping his eyes open.

"We're almost there," I whisper. His eyelids flutter slightly to acknowledge he heard me.

Ahead of us looms the Gate to the city. There it is freedom. We're so close. Elias trips again and I catch his with my body, the shoulder pack dangling in view.

"Elias, please, we're almost there. I promise you'll be okay." His eyelids don't flutter.

 _Follow road. Take fourth right. Hide in carriage_. Time to find a carriage.

Most carriages are packed to the brim or too well guarded to sneak into. We mill about, following some carts until we find one down an alley way with bare space. The driver has just gone inside a shop to collect that last of his produce before leaving the city.

"Elias, you need to climb up the carriage okay? I can't lift you by myself." Elias groans and his hard muscles stiffen against my arms _. Hard lines on the outside and softness everywhere else._

I help pull him into the carriage and barely have both for us covered with extra cloth by the time the driver comes back. I'm pressed against his body, my head lying gently against his chest. Elias's heart beat rings in my ears. I fear it will get slower and slower as we start moving.

By the time we approach the Gate, and I know this as the carriage grinds to a halt and series of shouts are uttered at the driver, Elias's breathing has become wheezy and heavy in my ear. But I don't care to shift. If he is to die now I will stay here with him.

The carriage starts moving again and the ground shifts under the wooden wheels. Gravel. Gone are the stone streets of the city, we're on gravel. We're outside the city.

I'm free. Elias is free. We are a free.


	5. V: Helene

**I just wanted to say thank you so much for all the positive feedback I've gotten. Its been great hearing that you guys enjoy the story even if the fan base is so small (especially since it's exam time and I'm way too stressed out!). I even enlisted the help of one of my friends to create an actual cover for this story so eventually it will have a nice official cover. I'm interested to know if you guys think I should continue the story after the official sequel comes out or if I should start a new one after that. Ether way I enjoy writing these characters and this world too much to just end it. Let me know your guy's thoughts and thanks again!**

* * *

 **V: Helene**

The amber glow of the dying afternoon sunlight used to be my favourite time of day. Mostly because it meant lessons were over for the day and we were free to roam about. Some guys even snuck off during these hours to visit the docks. Not Elias. We would roam around for hours, sometimes skipping a meal at Blackcliff in favour of locally bought food in the city. Our favourite spot was just outside the academy walls on a ledge looking out over the landscape. If you had looked to your left you would have seen the tumbling sand dunes of the desert and the sand dune mountains in the distance. To your right was the city of Serra, and past that, the shimmer sea. Elias would always sneak food out there for us and we would sit on that ledge for hours wondering about what was far beyond. It was our spot and only ours. I'd never longed for freedom then, as I now know Elias had, but I do now. Not once have I visited that spot since his leaving and I don't plan to.

Now, after all that has happened, the fading afternoon is my least favourite time. Marcus has a knack for summoning me at that same time; at least he has been for the past few days. Maybe it's because he knows this time used to belong to only Elias and I, or maybe he just happens to enjoy interrogating his rivals in the warm glow of the setting sun. Either way I despise him for it.

His back is to me when I enter the council room - the room he had created just for his own personal meetings. It's set up in one of the old forgotten rooms in the amphitheater. Its window stretches unending along the length of the far wall. In this time of day the fading sun just barely reaches over the Blackcliff walls, eliminating the Bell Tower in a yellow glow.

"Aquilla." I was purposefully walking in loudly so I knew he would hear me.

"Marcus," I snap back. His back tights making the dark fabric of his shirt ruffle and he answers without turning his body from the window.

"That's Emperor to you." His face reflected in the glass is the same expression he held after training practices. He's angry; very angry. His eyebrows are drawn tight as if someone has come along and sewn them together. _This is going to go great,_ I think sarcastically.

I keep my voice light, innocent, even though I'm far beyond that. "What have you summoned me for today?" I considering adding 'master' at the end but I'm not that low. And Marcus is as far from a master as I am to a house wife.

I can see his smirk in the reflection. He knows what game I'm playing. "It seems your boyfriend has managed to escape the city." My heart drops and I simultaneously feel relief and dread.

"He's not my boyfriend," I mutter through clenched teeth. It sounds like a lie.

Marcus turns around from the window. He has his hands tucked behind his back and he almost looks professional, if you ignored the obviously too tight shirt that he's wearing. Maybe he's trying to compensate for something. "Who would want to court you anyway?"

I scoff. This is a child's fight. I contemplate bringing up the fact that his brother wanted to court me, numerous times, but decide I'm not that cruel.

"What do you what," I mutter trying not to sound like his comment got to me

Marcus, arms crossed, frowns making his eyebrows curl up weirdly. Then he steps the few feet separating us and takes my chin is his hand, tipping my head so I'm forced to look at only his face. His hand is rough and it scratches against my skin. I want badly to get away from him, and I could with one easy swipe at his knee, but instead hold his steady gaze. He's not worth the fight. "Now now, buttercup." Maybe I am that cruel. "We've got other things to discuss before we get to that."

 _Then what was the point of mentioning Elias at all,_ I almost ask. But I know the answer: to get a reaction.

"Then talk."

Marcus glares. He was expecting more. He drops my chin and pulls a hand out from behind his back to gestures to the chairs set out in front of his overly large desk. Red cloth, dark oak. Even his chairs are obnoxious. I choose the one farthest for him. When I'm properly seated Marcus turns back to the window.

"I thought we were going to talk."

He tilts his head back to look at me and then, with a look of defeat - or maybe annoyance - walks over to the desk. The desk itself is surprising clean. Not a single paper lays scattered about. Even the quill pens are neatly arranged in a line along the top. _A maid_ , I wonder. He sits down behind the desk, places his hands on the top of the wood and leans forward to stare at me. His expression reads clear as day: He's dreading this chat.

"The Emperor is expected to bear an heir, as you know," He mutters, "even if the line of succession doesn't not remain in the family."

My mouth is dry and my hands have turned clammy. Where is he going with this? "I know."

Marcus nods then continues. "Good." He glances down at the lines of pens and his fingers twitches as if he wants to pick one up and fiddle with it. "It has been," he pauses looking for the right word, "pointed out to be that you be a good choice for the task."

I choke on my own spit. The task? Bile tickles its way up my throat at the thought of... that. My hand clenches in a fist and before I know what I'm doing I'm up and around the desk, a knife to his throat. Anger burns for the tips of my fingers and I swear flames have erupted in my eyes. I want nothing more than to end his despicable life now.

"I am not a fucking _choice_ to be made," I spat. The blade digs into his skin. It feels powerful knowing I could end him right here right now. "I am not an object to be used to your advantage, much less to bear your distinguishing off spring!"

"But you are." He's calm. It makes me want to punch him more. "You swore loyalty to me."

"I swore loyalty to the Empire!"

"I am the Empire!" Marcus's vice suddenly bellows across the room sending my bones rattling under my skin. He grabs at my loose writs and twists until I hear a snap and the blade drops to the floor. "There is no Empire without me." He's out of the chair behind the desk, bent over my form to roar in my face. There isn't too much of a height difference between us, but I feel as if I am a toddler next to him now.

My mouth is dry and I barely get the words out. "I won't. You can't make me." I immediately regret the latter. His eyebrow tips.

"Is that a challenge?" My skin crawls. I want out of this room; I want to get as far away from him as possible.

"Fuck you." _Stupid,_ once again.

"You obviously don't know me as well as I thought you did." He tips his chin up, forcing my head up higher as I refuse to break his stare. I'm too far in this now to back down. "I expected more for you."

I smirk in spite of him. "I expected more from you, _Emperor._ The leader of a nation should be commanding, not heartless."

Marcus's eyebrows untwist. His shoulders un-tense and he smiles the cruelest smile I ever seen. Its ahs if he has been waiting for me to say that. He leans down close enough that I can smell the liquor and smoke on his breath. "You should only despise those with a human heart. They're the ones to be fearful of."

He tugs on the braid running down my back and I have the urge to run for the door. The smell of alcohol and smoke is still enveloping my senses. It makes me gag. "I only loathe you."

Marcus smiles like it's the most natural thing in the world to be told you are hated. Maybe it is for him. I turn on my heel to leave, but Marcus grabs at my shoulder and pushes me back until I'm pressed against the bookshelf, his arm across my neck. Shit. I let out an innocent laugh and glance at the books that got knocked to the floor out of curiosity. One lies on top of a pile, its worn brown cover and gold lettering dully shinning. ' _Prophetias magica_ _.'_ The Prophecies of Magic. My heart nearly stops its movement. Staring at it brings back the hours of singing next to Elias's bed, slowly watching the wounds close and never stopping the music until my throat was too dry to even speak. Then there was the slave girl. She had been far worse than Elias, the skin barely hanging on her bones in some areas. Her wounds had closed just as quickly. Power shimmers through my finger tips just looking at the cover. All the secrets it must hold. All the power…. I realize I have been staring far too long.

"I didn't know you could read," I mutter quickly. I tilt my head, giving him access to the end of the braid again. He smirks, tugging on my hair, not picking up on the obvious distraction.

"Like I said," he states. "You don't seem to know me all that well. Perhaps we should change that." He almost, _almost,_ sounds enduring.

Bile crawls up my throat and I push it back down again. "I can't say I'm too interested in that." His arm tightens around my throat. Shit. I can't risk pissing him off too much, nor can I be too distant or else there's no chance of sneaking back in here to get that book if he has me being followed.

His lips brush my ear when he leans down to talk. It's a disturbingly intimate position. "Perhaps you'll reconsider my offer."

This time I nearly do throw up, but I'm saved by the slam of the chamber doors being thrown open. No servant would dare open the door, much less that dramatically, without knocking. I already know who it is before they talk.

"It seems I have interrupted something private," The Commandant snarls as Marcus with drawls himself from me. My muscles loosen and I breathe in much needed oxygen. Her face is hard as stone, the silver mask long since settled into all the grooves of her face, yet no emotion shows through. Heat rises to my neck when her eyes skim over me. It's as if I'm a school being caught out of class with a boy. _Pathetic_ , I think.

"No matter," Marcus says. In an instant his entire domineer had changed. He glanced back at me then nodded his head over to the far side of the room where they could talk without being interrupted. Instead of following suite the Commandant raises a hand to him then walks towards me. Not only was I in terrible state since that Marcus encounter, now I had the Commandant ready to interrogate me.

"Aspirant Aquilla."

"It's Blood Shrike." Her eyebrow twitches.

"So it is." She shots a look back at the Emperor. "I wonder, are you aware of the betrayal of Veturius?" I nearly scoff at her.

"How could I not be?" She doesn't take my sarcasm well.

"I see," She snaps. The Commandant pulls back her cloak ever so slightly so that the blade strapped to her hip shimmers. She's trying to show her danger. The only problem is I outrank her now. "I'd think the Emperor would have sought out some form of punishment, for being associated with that traitor. Perhaps he should have even found himself a new -."

"Are we done here," I ask looking around her small shoulder to Marcus who showed no sign of being surprised, or even annoyed. No one ever dared to interrupt the Commandant. When I steal a look back at the women her eyes are flames and her thin lips pressed in a thin line.

She howls, "You foolish, idiotic -."

"If we are done I wished to be dismissed. I have other _things_ to attend to," purposefully adding that last bit to watch her nostrils flare at all the thought of what _things_ a young female might go out and do. The Commandant doesn't say another word. Instead she tilts her chin up and stalks back toward Marcus. She knows I've won, she knows that I'm untouchable unless Marcus says otherwise. And he wouldn't dare let anyone go after me now, not with the favour he is requesting of me.

"You should consider thinking about who is loyal to you, and who is only here for the humor of it," she stares back at me. Marcus's face reveals nothing. He only motions to the door where they step out in the corridor to talk alone.

When the door slams shut I scurry over to the pile of books and gently pick up the one of a worn spine and gold lettering. ' _Prophetias magicae_ _.'_ It's been a long while since I have read Latin, but I have no doubt that that is what it says. Some deep part of me aches to burn the book and all its secrets, but the part of me that desires to read it cover to cover is much stronger. I swore I'd never think about the power I held, the magic that ran through my veins, but now that the answer is so close its impossible not to. As silent as a falling feather I tuck the book back on the shelf and memorize its location for when I return. Instead of leaning back against the book shelf, or even taking a seat in the obnoxious chair, I perch myself on top of a desk.

Marcus and the Commandant walk back in, faces blank, to see me cleaning nonexistent dirt from under my fingernails with a blade. The Commandant approaches me and I don't try and hid my smirk. "Yes?"

Her nose flares. I never thought pissing off the Commandant would be so easy, or fun. She takes a deep breath, like I'm an immature child she had been forced to deal with, and then says, "Training day tomorrow. You will be at the Secondary Training field at high noon."

"And if I refuse?" They flare more.

Marcus bellows behind her, "She will be there." I raise an eyebrow at him but don't object. I take that as my clue to leave. The Commandant nostrils are still flared while I jump off the desk and head for the door, bypassing Marcus. He grabs my arm as I go and I almost see a proud expression on his face, but it's gone as soon as I see it. "Do I need to question your loyalties?"

My gaze lands on the Commandant. She's leaning against the desk. She's so much more petite than I ever thought. "You tell me." I should be anxious of his reaction, but strangely enough I feel powerful against him. He seems to pick up on this.

"You're _my_ second," He growls low enough that the Commandant can't hear. Marcus quickly glances at the women now leaning against his desk, then he pulls me back until I'm pressed against the door, his hands on my arms. It doesn't feel threatening, the way he's acting. "We aren't done with our discussion." I know he's talking about Elias.

"I guess I'll see you at tomorrow then, same time?" I don't wait for him to answer before I twist away and pull the door open. I slip through without a sound. I'm done being shoved into walls by him. It's only when I'm down the corridor before I realize had had pressed me against the door because he was adamant about the Commandant not hearing us. He didn't want her coming after me about Elias. But did he do it for me or him?


	6. VI: Elias

**Hey guys! Thanks again for the amazing support. This chapter was honestly much harder to write than I thought. Hopefully you guys enjoy.**

* * *

 **VI: Elias**

Sybil is in the tent when I enter.

She's perched on the arrangement of blankets that she calls her bed. A book is settled in her lap, its pages worn and water damaged. Her long hair falls in front of her face casting shadows along the pages. I don't understand how I know her name but it feels like home when her name rings in my head.

"What are you reading?"

She looks up, startled, and then smiles when she sees me. One corner of her mouth tips upward before the other in a way that looks lazy and elegant.

"IIyaas, I thought you were out playing with the other boys."My name sounds strange rolling off her tongue, like there is something off about it, but I can't place a finger on it. I shake my head and glance down at the bandage wrapped around my leg from where Donita had tripped me and I had skinned my knee. "Oh IIyaas."

There it is again, the feeling that something isn't right. I refused to look up at her. I knew what she would say anyway. "Why didn't you fight back?" I mumbled a reply without looking up. I knew, without knowing why, that I shouldn't mumble. I did anyway. "Don't mumble."

"It would have been the wrong thing to do."

I still refused to look up, but I knew that Sybil had placed the book down and had stood up. "IIyaas." I shivered.

I slowly glance up through my hair. _Why was my hair long?_ Sybil towered over me. Her hair fell just passed her waist. I was nearly as tall as her hair was long. Her stern features were sent in a grimace. For some reason I couldn't explain, I felt fear.

She grabbed at the cloth covering my torso. _Was that my shirt?_ Sybil yanked me closer. "You know better than that." Her voice cut knifes through my skin. I was thrown back into a mess of blankets. She was approaching me again when the tent flap opened again.

Another woman stepped through the entryway. Like Sybil, her hair is down to her waist, but her hair was twisted in elegant princess curls. Her features were soft and when she smiles I immediately wanted to smile back. Estelle.

"IIyaas, I thought you were playing outside." My name still feels wrong. She sauntered towards me, her blonde hair, lightened from the sun, sways gently behind her. It's the same colour as Helene's.

"I got hurt," I mumbled. She didn't call me out on it. Instead she reached down to smooth my hair.

"I see that, IIyaas."

I speak without meaning to but the word tumbles out. "Elias."

Estelle tilts her head. I still don't know how I know her or who she is to be, but I know that whatever name they have been using is not my name. "Excuse me," she declares.

"That's my name, Elias."

Sybil spins around and stares at me in horror, but she's no longer Sybil. Laia is staring at me. Her gentle smile forms on her face, that smile I have grown so used to. She tucks a piece of hair, brown hair falling to the middle of her back, and nods. A very un-Laia gesture I realize.

"Elias?" Despite her calm features her voice comes out shaky and scared. She glances at Estelle. Only it's no longer Estelle. Her long blonde hair I unchanged, but everything else is different. Her clothes, a warrior outfit, are equipped with blades. Her stance is that of a trained fighter and her eyes stare me down like a prey ready to be eaten. There is no mistaking that that is Helene.

"Elias." Her voice is softer, gentler, and much calmer than Laia. "Go back Elias. Go back." I don't understand what see means. Go back? Go back where?

Laia is yelling at me now, my own name ringing in my ears until the tent falls away and Helene goes with it. Laia starts to wobble and her face draws closer until it's all I can see.

"Elias? Elias?" She's staring at me intently. Her eyebrows are drawn together creating a crease above her nose. "Elias!"

It takes me too long to realize that she's real and that I was previously dreaming. The words sting as I utter them, "Hey Laia."

A small squeal escapes from between her lips, a very un-Laia thing to do, I notice. But then again the only contact I have had with her was the moments we shared at Blackcliff. Before I have time to figure out what is happening, or rather what had happened after the Smith's, she's kissing me. Not actually kissing, more or less, just pressing her lips to mine. Was she waiting for me to respond? I decide I should and press back against her. A smile forms are she leans closer so our noses are squished awkwardly, but it feels anything but awkward. In fact it feels calm, but I don't want calm. I wanted passion. I wanted her, all of her. I moved on to by elbow from lying down and Laia pulled away. Better that way anyway I figured due to the burn my muscles suffered from only moving a tiny bit.

"How are you feeling," she asks continue to stare me down. I swallow and try to look around her to see where we are but she only leans in closer.

"Okay," I decide on a generic answer.

"Good." Once again she leans in and I assume she's going to kiss me again except she does the exact opposite. Her hand connects with the side of my face.

"Christ," I yell. She's had some muscle behind that slap. "What was that for?" Laia leans backward looking very satisfied.

"You scared me!" My eyebrows have drawn together again I have to focus very intently as to do stare at that crease because all I want to do it is kiss that worry line away. Since when do I think like this, I wonder? Sure I've always had 'feelings' for some girls before, hell even for Helene, but never like this. I've had feelings or wanting to kiss a girl but never in this way.

"You don't have to be scared for me." As soon as the words leave my mouth I realize it sounded like flirting. _Did I mean for it to sound like that?_ Laia frowns.

"It doesn't matter if I shouldn't be, I was. Elias, it thought you were going to die!" Her voice wavers and I can't think of anything to say back. _Was I really that bad off?_ Laia falls back onto her knees and stands. She moves away and I can see where we are. Grey stone surrounds the room and stretches farther out in front of me. A gently steam of water drips from the ceiling. A cave.

My attention turns back to Laia. She's attending to a fire in the centre, and largest portion of the cave. The rock stretches so far back that I can't see the entrance. "Are we… Are we outside the city walls?"

Laia swivels back to look at me from kneeling next to the flames. Her face is lit up and long shadows extend across her face. She smiles, reluctantly. "Yeah, we're outside the walls."

I jerk up from the mess of blankets around me and instantly regret it. "Shit," I mutter as I attempt to brace myself against the rock wall. Laia jumps up and runs to my aid, helping me to gently lie back down against the blankets.

"I figured you weren't stupid enough to try that," Laia mutters. Her arms are around my shoulders, lowering me down to the floor. I can't help but notice she smells lovely.

"How long have I been," I pause looking for the right word, "out."

Laia takes a long time to answer. "About a day." I sputter. "We left the city around this time yesterday." When she deems that I have been properly settled she moves back to the fire.

I have to talk louder for her to hear me over the crackling fire. "And what time is it now?"

She glances in the direction of where the cave entrance would be. "The sun set a few minutes ago."

* * *

Laia's attempts to shove food down my throat end horribly. Not only is the food long past stale, but I simply couldn't stomach anything. That we figured out the hard way. Laia promised to go out tomorrow and see what she could rummage up for food, despite my objections.

"There's a village nearby. Besides I've been there already." I was less worried about her leaving me on my own while unconscious and more worried about her safety.

"Why would you do that? You don't know what's out there. You could have gotten badly hurt." Laia jerks up and eyebrow looks like she's trying not to scoff.

"I could have got badly hurt? Really, you want to say that to me."

I clamp my mouth shut and start staring at a wall.

"The locals didn't suspect anything; one even said random people come by all the time. So relax," Laia mutters adding some new twigs to the fire. The temperature had dramatically dropped since I had woken up earlier. Laia had layered on some more clothes and gone as far as to wrap a blanket around her shoulders.

Silence drags on between us. I'm content to lay and watch the fire despite the aching feeling of being useless. But Laia starts talking again.

"How are you feeling?"

My grumble tiredly, "Fine."

Laia is sitting next to the fire huddled in a blanket. She doesn't turn to look at me when I speak. It takes her a long time to answer. "That's good. Is your fever gone?"

I shake my head then realize she can't see it. "I'm still a little hot."

This time she turns her head. Her eyes are wide set; the fire cast shadows along the hollows of her cheeks. She looks startlingly like the girl from my dream; Sybil. "I think I can find some wet clothes or something here," she starts to climb to her feet, the blanket dragging on the cave floor. "There's some cold water left -."

"Laia."

"I could soak an extra shirt or something maybe that will help. I could see what's left in that med kit, but I don't -."

"Laia."

Her head tilts up and she stares at me in the middle of rummaging through the med kit. Her eyes were even wider and she was shaking. I could tell it wasn't because she was cold. "Yea," she mumbled in answer.

"Can you take my shirt off?"

She was stunned. "Wh – What?"

"Can you help me take my shirt off, it will help. I don't want to risk hypothermia with a wet cloth," I said. Her still stunned face nodded and started walking towards me. Laia kneeled down and tenderly laid a gentle hand on my clothed chest. Without another word she started lifting the hem of my shirt. The last time she had seen me shirtless was in the Smith's basement cellar. _Was she remembering that time too?_ Softly, the shirt is peeled from my torso. Blood still sticks to the fabric and little bit remains on my chest, but the wound has since been cleaned and properly bandaged, no doubt thanks to Laia.

"Is that better," she asks tenderly consciously avoiding looking at my chest.

"Much," I paused as if I was going to continue but I couldn't find anything else to say.

"You should rest," She said starting to stand but I reached out a held her wrist to prevent her from leaving. Now that she said it I was tired, but she looked worse. I couldn't see before but the dark creases under her eyes weren't caused by the fire light.

"When was the last time you slept?"

Laia glanced down at my hand on her wrist but didn't make an effort to tug away. "I'm fine. Besides you need to rest so we can get moving again." She looks up waiting for a response. She was staring at my torso.

I repeat my question again. "When was the last time you slept?"

"Stop asking, Elias." Laia tugged away, but I wouldn't let her go. "You need to sleep."

Laia looked up again and smiled at me. She leaned close enough that we were sharing breath space. "And you need to rest more," she whispered. It occurred to me that I could kiss her right now. I could feel her lips on mine again and I could wrap my arms around her. _I had thought that same thing about Helene once…_

"Elias?" I realize she had been talking but I wasn't listening.

"Yeah?"

She blinks her impossibly long eyelashes. Her smile tips up just has it had at the festival and I have the sudden urge to want to dance with her. "If I rest, _only_ for a few minutes," She said. "Will you stop nagging?"

I smiled, genially smiled. "Yes," I answer confidently.

Laia tilts down to look at me and once again I think she might kiss me but she only starts gather up some blankets. I don't object when she moves to the fire and positions herself so the fire is between us. I want her closer, but I don't say anything lest I scare her away. She settles down in the heap of blankets, her hair sprawled on the blanket being used as a pillow. _She's so beautiful._ She lets out a gentle sigh that makes me chuckle. Her face is calm and soon all I can hear is her gentle breathing and the crackling of the dying fire. I'm left on my own to contemplate my earlier dream. I don't have to think about it for too long before I remember it all; not just the dream, but everything.

"Sister," I whispered careful not to wake up Laia. When I was living with the Tribesman she was my sister. And Estelle was my mom. I understand with a jolt that she still is. The Commandant is never, nor will she ever be, my mother. I had a family, a family I had forgotten about.


	7. VII: Laia

**VII: Laia**

The walk to the village is slow going. It would have been ten times faster had Elias let me go alone, but he was having none of that.

"You can barely move," I had argued, continuing to pack my travel bag which consisted of water, extra 'emergency' bandages, some money I swiped from the carriage driver, and my knife.

"That's not a factor," Elias disagreed. He was still laying on the arrangement of blankets the back of the cave.

"How can it not be?"

"You need someone to protect you." I rolled my eyes. I seemed to be doing that a lot lately, I never did that before.

"I can protect myself perfectly fine." Elias scoffed. I had had a sense of mine to walk out of the cave right then and there but I stopped myself. If he hadn't been there in the cave I probably would be dead right now, or worse. Yet, if I hadn't been there during the raid at the Smith's house he would be dead too. So that makes us even. But there was that time with Marcus….

"I'm not letting you go alone."

I turned around to face Elias. He had managed to sit himself up and was leaning against the cave wall, a thin sheen of sweat on his forehead. "Your fever hasn't broke," I muttered. Elias sighed.

"You can willingly me bring or I'll follow you myself," He said and I believed him. Elias would crawl through hell just to prove his point. I turned back around so he wouldn't see my annoyed smile. Even annoying Elias is better than hurt Elias. Despite his 'annoying' state the company would be nice; it's a long walk to the village.

"Fine," I grumbled. I heard Elias chuckle.

We left promptly after that, a few minutes after the sun rose. The journey to the village is already fairly long, but adding on Elias's slow pacing was making it seem even longer. The cobblestone houses and wood paneled houses finally started to come into view just before noon.

"There it is," I say to Elias who is trudging along behind me. He was doing a good job to pretending he wasn't in pain. I mentally add bloodroot to my list of things to grab. We've already used up the small bottle that was in the med kit.

Elias's eyes grow wider as we approach, as if he didn't actually believe the place existed. The outer streets of the village are empty but the main street is packed with people and vendors. Our first stop is vegetables at Molly's stand. I remember her name as she likes to talk in third person. Elias lingers behind while I make small talk with Molly who seems to think small talk is sharing every life detail.

"So my brother thought it was a great idea to cut his own hair," she stops rambling for a moment and stares behind me. "Is that your boyfriend," she squeals. I feel heat rush to my face.

"No," Elias answers behind me, but I wonder to myself if I want him to be.

Molly leans over the stand, her hair brushing in a bowl of corn. "Can he come closer," she whispers, or what she considers whispering. I'm nearly certain Elias heard her. Elias steps forward before I tell him not too. A dark hood conceals most of his face except for his eyes which are striking in contrast to his dark hair and dark clothes. "My, my," Molly suckles on her front teeth; a habit she says she never out grew despite being old enough to have kids herself. "You got yourself a good one there." She winks.

Elias chuckles. "You're not so bad yourself," he says with what I know is a smirk. Molly cackles, throwing her hands. A bowl of carrots almost go flying.

"Well aren't you nice," Molly stated. "Molly thinks more men should be like you." Elias chuckled and I suddenly felt left out. Elias and Molly chatted on for a while more in which she told him all about the different colours of carrots.

"There you go darling," she says handing a bag of vegetables to Elias. He thanks her – again – for the compliments, and the food, and we move on down the street.

"She seems nice," he chuckles in my ear.

For the rest of the excursion Elias walks behind me and stays quiet. Sometimes he'll wander up to stands to smell the fresh bread or admire the handmade jewelry. I manage to find some bloodroot and by the time we're ready to leave the market we're nearly out of money.

"You should have taken more," Elias mutters quietly so no one else hears. I tilt my head so I can talk to him without turning around.

"Keep that in mind, it's your turn next," I grumble back. Elias chuckles and shivers run up my spin as his breathe brushes my neck. For a moment I forget we're on the run, or that he's hurt. Reality sets in too quickly for my liking.

"Wait here." He slips away faster than my eyes can track. I have a moment of panic before remembering that it's Elias. But he's also still recovering. I whirl around, my cloak catching around my ankles. I'm standing in the midst of a busy square with Elias nowhere in sight. I contemplate calling out his name but would he even hear me in this crowd.

"For you."

I jump forward and spin around, hands up read to fight off my attacker. Elias is standing behind me, bent at the waist so he could talk directly in my ear. He straightens up when I turn and smiles brightly, making his pale eyes sparkle. I glance down. He's holding a small blue flower between two fingers.

"Where did you get that," I harshly whisper. He chuckles again and starts tucking the flower behind my ear. I'm too focused on his fingers in my hair to say anything else.

"I stole it," he casually answers when he finishes. He steps back and inspects his work, looking impressed.

"Elias!"

The smile drops of his face then the corner tips up quickly as if nothing happened. "They're not going to miss one." He starts walking the way we came. It doesn't take much to catch up with him.

"Are you doing okay," I ask forgetting about the stolen flower. He ignores me. The music and sounds of people die down as we make our way into the dense forest of trees. Elias is determined to keep a quicker pace this time, I don't object. We make it three quarters of the way back to the cave before he gives in and collapses against a rock.

"Quick break," He pants. I grimace. He looks defeated, he's probably not used to having to stop and rest, he's probably used to feeling invincible. I bend down until I'm eye level with him.

"Here," I pull out an apple for the sack and hand it to him. He's been eating better lately; nutrients will do him some good. "Tell me when you're ready to go." I settle down next to him on the rock, glance at his pained face as he adjusts his sitting position then add, "No rush." I lean back on the rock and stare up and the sky. The afternoon has slipped away and the shadows cast by the trees have grown long and looming. The sun's going to set soon. Maybe there is some rush.

Elias is the first to hear the footsteps. His body goes rigid and the apple drops to the ground. "What," I mutter sitting back up and brushing pine needles from my hair. He shushes me. Then I hear it too; the slow crunch of footsteps on the forest floor. Elias reacts first, bouncing on his feet and drawing his scims as if he isn't in any pain. I crawl off the rock, careful not to make a sound. The knife feels steady in my hand. Villagers? Soldiers? Mask's? Surely the Emperor would send out his prized fighters to recover his prized enemy; Enemies.

"Keep behind me," Elias growls. This time I don't object. He takes a quiet step forward; the forest is frozen around us. The footsteps pause for a moment. _Good, maybe they'll turn around._ But they start their approach again, this time faster. Elias's breathing evens out and his muscles turn to stone, a warrior preparing for battle.

Shadows cross my vision and come running out of the trees before I have a chance to warn Elias. He turns immediately in their direction, scims raised ready for attack.

"Molly?" I step out from behind Elias. My hood is drawn so and first she doesn't recognize me.

"Laia," she whispers. It's the quietest I've ever heard her. Molly's thin red hair is stuck to her forehead by sweat and her scarves are disheveled around her shoulders. She's panting and based on the condition of her shoes it looks like she ran all the way out here. A snap echoes in the distance and Molly's eyes widen as large as they can possibly go. "Run!"

Then she's off again, sailing past us in a blurry of knit scarves and red hair. I gulp behind Elias. "I think we should follow her," my voice shakes.

But Elias is listening, his fixed in place starting at the forest clearing were _something_ has emerged. Not a something, a person. It takes a step closer into the light and I realize it's only a little girl. Her blonde hair braided in pigtails and her eyes are as blue as the sky. She's wearing a torn up school girl dress, the cloth hanging in threads at the end. She looks normal and innocent, but something is off.

She stares first at Elias, then at me, then back to Elias. Her lips curl up in an unnatural way. "Murder" she whispers in a scratchy voice. The girl is still starring at Elias. Looking unimpressed with the lack of response she says it louder. "Murder!"

Elias flinches but doesn't move. "Murder! Murder!" She's screaming now. "You killed them all. You murdered them all!" Her banshee screaming continues until I have to kneel over on the ground and hold my hands over my ears. "They're dead, all of them! You murdered them dead!"

The little girl takes another step forward, her steps thundering through the forest sending birds fleeing. "You did this! You killed them all dead! Murder!" Elias is still frozen. His breathing is no longer even and a thin sheen of sweat has developed on his brow. Looking satisfied the girl shifts her attention to me. I'm still kneeling on the ground like a coward.

Her mouth opens wide, wider than it should for a normal girl, but she is no normal girl. Before I have time to decide what she is she starts screaming again, this time her words are directed at me. With her first word I'm thrown into a world of blackness.


	8. VIII: Helene

**VIII: Helene**

The first half of Training day past without trouble. Part of me wished there was some kind of issue, something to distract myself from everything else. As it stands Marcus refused to let me fight anyone of skills anywhere close to me. All I did was train the Yearlings, which wouldn't have been so bad had the Commandant not stared at the back of my head the whole time. I got so mad half way through the day I had to take a walk to cool myself down. That's something Elias used to do a lot.

When I got back Marcus was waiting on the field looking expensive in his lavish armor and blood red cape. "What is this," I asked. The Commandant continued to eye me from her seat near the field but didn't make a move to approach.

Before I had made my way to Marcus a Mask stepped forward, effectively blocking my path, thou I still had a clear view of him. _If I could shoot daggers from my eyes,_ I had thought. Two more Masks's approached, taking his cape and gloves, all while Marcus stared me down. When the two Mask's had left with his possessions he took a loud step forward to signal the Mask in front of me to move away., which he did reluctantly. Then I had a clear path.

"What is this," I asked again despite already having a clear idea of what was going on. Marcus sneered and lunged forward expecting to catch me off guard. _They always underestimate me._ I crouched down as his blade swung where my head had been. While he was in the midst of his attack I kicked out his knee sending him staggering backwards. Now that I think about it I realize I should have aimed for the crotch, would have disabled him longer.

Marcus got his footing back quicker than I would have liked. He didn't even pause before he lunged again, this time the blade pointed at my heart. I grabbed at the blade at my hip and slashed it against his. Metal sparks burning in the air. Marcus twisted his blade but I knew all his tricks. I jumped back letting put all his body weight forwards then slashed at the back of his armor, cutting a deep scratch in the shining metal.

"Fuck," he had snarled. The scim was light in my hands and my breathing was even. I was ready when he came at me again. We went on like this for a while, slashing away, the Commandant continuously staring. I could feel her eyes on the back of my head.

"Pathetic," Marcus snarled when he got the upper hand and pushed his bald to my throat. The only thing between his blade and my skin was my scim which I had managed to wedge in while he was distracted. I was pushing with all my weight against that blade. I had simply snarled at Marcus. I wouldn't give him the satisfaction of a proper response.

When I finally managed to get leverage on the blade I pushed hard enough to send him staggering backward. I used that time to lunge forward, aiming my blade at the small flaw in his chest plate. The metal had ripped open cleaning as it met my blade. I expected to pull back and see blood welling where my scim had cut, not a lot, but enough to show how much damage I could have caused. Instead there had been nothing, not a single drop. That was because under his shinning armor was a chain link metal shirt melted to his skin. That shithead stole my shirt.

I ground my teeth, dropped my blade and jumped on him sending us slamming to the ground. My first punch landed square on his jaw, landing hard enough to leave a bruise for weeks. The next punch landed on his torso, on the gap where the chest plate failed to meet his hip. I didn't manage to get a third punch in before he attacked back, sending a punch to my side (I wasn't wear battle armor) then the right side of my face. He grabbed at my shoulders and flipped us over so I was under him, at his mercy. I brought my elbow up, blocking his next punch and landing a hit on his nose that sent blood pouring from it.

The roar he let loose could be heard for miles. Marcus gripped my elbow with one hand and slammed my head to the ground. My vision was still recovering when he nailed me on the other side of the head, then my nose, then my stomach.

"Enough." A voice billowed through the air; An Augur. Marcus's eyes had narrowed down at me, then he spat before crawling off me. By the time I stood up he was brushing dust off his shoulder as if he was unharmed. There was blood seeping from his nosing and dripping in heavy drops to the dusty ground.

"What is this?" Marcus straightened as the Augur approached. The Commandant was following close behind. "What is the meaning of this?" The Augur looked furious, veins popping at his temple.

"It was a simple Training Test," the Commandant argued, stilling marching to keep up with the Augur. He approached me first, taking my chin in his cold hand. He tipped my head upward and inspected my nose which was dripping blood too. Not broken.

"This is not right." He dropped my chin the moved on to Marcus. He looked much worse off. I smiled to myself about that. "Preposterous," The Augur snarled as he examined Marcus's nose (broken), his now bruised jaw, and the slash in his chest plate (I ended up break on of his ribs).

"There's nothing wrong with training," the Commandant retaliated. She stood next to Marcus. He shrunk down under the Augur's gaze like a child in trouble.

"The Emperor and Blood Shrike is a scarred relationship." The Augur shook his head like he as to embarrassed by us. "Get them to the Infirmary." When no one moved he shouted, "Now!"

Instantly a million people had crowed around the Emperor, waiting to assist him to medical attention. I stood surround by a platoon for four men, two pulling at my arms to get me walking and another two to guard me as we walking to the Infirmary. I didn't fight them; instead I just curled my lips and obeyed. I passed Faris and Dex on my way out, making sure to give them both a wink. They looked baffled.

I had stayed no more than an hour in the Infirmary before I slipped out. Now a day later and nothing has come of the battle. No one's even bothered to mention it. Marcus's hasn't called on me ether, but I guess that's a plus. The down side is that I haven't had a chance to steal to book from his office. Instead I fill my time with Faris and Dex, chatting or relaxing while they're on guard duty and wasting the rest of the hours drinking with them.

"You should really slow down there," Dex moans slamming another coin onto the bar to pay for my drink. I waved him off. Faris, Dex, and I were seated at a bar in the city, taking advantage of the night off. I probably could have told the bar tender to put it on the 'Emperors tab'.

"Let her be," Faris argues, knocking Dex shoulder causing his amber liquid to slosh over the glass. "She has enough on her plate already."

"Very true," I mutter raising my glass to Faris who knocks his against mine. "Besides it's not like I've got anywhere to be."

Dex raises an eyebrow. "He could call you back at any time."

"But he won't." Faris and Dex give each other a look.

"How can you be so sure," Dex says taking another slip out of his glass.

"I just am." The Pub air is thick and heavy, but it's comforting so I lean back in my chair and take a deep breath. It also smells a lot like smoke. I peek one eye open. Dex is lighting up a fag. He takes a long drag then tilts his chin in the air and puffs out a smoke ring. I've never smoked, but today I'm feeling adventurous.

"What are you doing now," Dex grumbles as I pluck the fag from his fingers. I tuck it nicely between my lips and take a drag like Dex did. Shit that burns. I cough a bit then hand the damn thing back to him while he's laughing. Elias would kill me if knew I did that.

Faris lights up his own and they starting chatting on about guard duty until the bartender comes over and starts getting mad. Apparently we aren't allowed to light up in here. Faris and I both jug the means of our drinks the follow Dex outside. The sun is setting casting the city in a dark shadow.

"Well lone be hold," Dex chuckles. I turn and look to a crowd of girls Dex is gesturing at with his fag. Faris turns bright red as one of them breaks away and starts to approach. She's about our age with long chestnut hair and dark brown eyes. Her skin has a dark tint making it glow golden in the street lights

"Faris," she exclaims excitedly. Faris stomps out his fag and shouts us a warning glance before approach the girl. He places a gently hand on her back and turns her so their backs are to us.

"Who's that," I whisper to Dex who's watching with fascination.

"His new interest."Dex chuckles and takes another long drag. "She's the child of the richest merchant in Serra."

My eyebrows shoot up. "You wouldn't know it," I answer tilting my head to get a better look. Even after knowing that she's rich she still looks ordinary. There isn't anything special about her, even her clothes are middle of the line. If anything her friends waiting for her are better dressed.

"She likes to keep it simple," Dex mutters trying to sound like Faris. After watching Faris and his 'new interest' conference for a few minutes I got bored.

"I'm heading back," I grumble to Dex as I leave. He blows out a smoke ring and waves goodbye. There's a folded up note sitting on my bed when I enter my room. Instead of looking at it I toss it to the floor and crawl into bed.

* * *

"You failed to show last night."

An Augur is standing in the corner of the office, probably summoned to over look our meeting. What does he think we're going to do, kill each other? We have intentions to do that any way but not while he's watching.

"It was late, I was tired." Marcus looks up from the map on the wall. He's wearing is red cape again.

"When your Emperor summons you, you come." The Augur takes a step forward from the corner. Marcus gives him a fleeting glance then turns back to me. "That's not a good excuse."

I don't say anything. Marcus looks like he's ready to draw a blade on me but the look he's sending across my shoulder makes me think the Augur is approaching. A look of defeat crosses his face.

"Come this way," He pulls at my arm and drags me to the opposite corner of the room where we can see out the window to the Blackcliff gates and past Serra to the water. The Augur adjusts his position accordingly. "My men have searched the entire city. Veturius is gone." He's grumbling. He doesn't want to attempt he failure in capturing Elias. "The Old Families armies are moving in. I can't afford to give up numerous men to hunt him down."

It takes me a second to understand what he's saying. "You're sending me to go find him."

"Not find," He growls. "Capture and kill." My heart drops to my stomach. I should have expected this, I knew Marcus would send me hunting for him at some point but I didn't think it would be so soon. "Bring him back alive. I want the pleasure of seeing his face when I finally end him."

He looks back at me proud, waiting to see if I make a move. I don't. I have no more fight left in me today. I turn around to the door taking the silence as my cue to leave.

"Your platoon is waiting in the Armory. Get them ready and suited up. You leave at dawn tomorrow."

I ignore his commands. The door is so close and I could reach out and pull it open now, but I wait. I don't want to look scared. The doorknob is heavy in my hands when I finally reach it. I'm nearly out the door; I've nearly escaped when Marcus calls on me again.

"And Blood Shrike." I turn and face him, all my anger visible in my glare. "Kill anyone he's associated with."


	9. IX: Elias

**Sorry for taking so long to update, I've had major writers block. You can all blame that one YouTube. Anyway hope you all have a good day and enjoy this chapter.**

* * *

 **IX: Elias**

They're everywhere. Their breath fills my ears, invades my lungs, and seeps into the pores of my skin.

 _Not this. Surely not this again._

Metal aroma fills the air and everything is coated in a thin layer of red. Their hands reach out to me, the skin peeling away from the bone; bone that has been cracked, broken and bent. I feel one on my back, tugging away my shirt from my skin. Then another pulls at my arm nearly ripping it free of my body.

They are everywhere now, invading every inch of breathable air. I can't see beyond their milky skeletal frames. Then she emerges, shining bright like the moon in the sky. She isn't like them, not yet. Her figure is distorted and her smile slanted but I breathe out a visible gasp.

 _I'm not alone._

When my hand finds hers, I realize it's shaking. No, it's my hand that's shaking. Hers is steady, unwavering. "What is this," I ask, but I don't need to. I know very well what this is. More importantly I want to know if this is real.

She squeezes my hand but doesn't answer. I never expected her to, but that's when I really look at her. She's far too thin, thinner than she ever was before, almost as if her entire body is withering away. Her long narrow fingers are suddenly stiff in my hands. I don't want to look at her face. I don't want to see all that's hidden there, so I don't.

Her hand shifts in my hand and I watch intently as the skin starts to peel away revealing blood soaked gashes. It starts at her fingers and starts moving up her arms. Pools of blood coat her skin and soon that's all I can see; the gaping wounds, the lethal blows. I pull my hand away, part of me not wanting to let her go. I clutch my unharmed hand to my chest like it has been poisoned.

 _This isn't real._

Of course it's real. You did this.

 _It's not real. It's not real._

You killed them all dead. Abruptly the metal tang disappears and the lines around her body start to ripple.

 _This isn't real._

The hands and voices vanish along with the haunting nightmares. She is the last to disappear, her body melting into the white surroundings. She smiles one last time before leaving. Then I'm alone.

* * *

I smell the intoxicating aroma of pine needles before anything else. My head aches when I try to open my eyes. I register the sky above me and the canopy of trees, but they're a blur. The forest floor is rough under my hands and I quickly learn I am lying down. _Why am I lying down?_

Only when I try to sit up does the smell of smoke reach my nose. I nearly gag and strangely wonder if I still have eyebrows.

"Elias?"

She's sitting on the rock, her knees tucked up to her chest in a position that makes her look like a child. All her pain and burdens are painted clear in her eyes. With struggling muscles, I push myself to a sitting position, then to standing. I wobble slightly but immediately correct it.

I'm about to ask her what the smoke smell is when I figure it out for myself. Where that 'thing' was standing now lays a blackened patch of earth. The only remains that something once lived there is a single flower, the flower I gave her.

"Laia," My voice shakes. "What did you do?"

She whimpers.

My brain quickly searches for every possible rational answer to what happened here, but I come up empty. Whatever that thing was, it wasn't … natural. And what ever happened to it wasn't… normal.

Laia whimpers again. She keeps her head tucked down as I cross the forest floor to sit on the rock beside her. I don't bother asking what happened again, or if it was her doing. Maybe it wasn't her? Immediately I feel uneasy.

"We should get back to safety," I tell her, trying to sound confident.

"There's no such thing," She whispers. Never the less, I tug at her shoulders until she is standing, partly supported by me. I don't notice the ache in my torso the entire way back, I'm too focused on keeping us moving; getting us to safety; Laia.

* * *

She doesn't move from the corner of the cave for hours after we get back. She stays tucked in a tight ball, refusing to move, eat, or even talk. Part of me wants to yell at her to grow up and face what happened. The other part of me just wants to comfort her and let her take her time. Nether part of me win, instead I stay on the other side of the fire watching to see if she does anything. I silently chuckle to myself at how quickly we have switched positions, literally.

"I am going to go get more firewood."

Her head tilts up. "You're leaving?"

Despite my stupidity, I smirk. "Only for a second," I inform her.

My back is turned by the time she speaks up again. "Can you…Can you stay?"

Laia's eyes are big and wide. I smile at her again, weirdly happy that she's talking again. "I'll be quick."

The night air is cold on my skin but it's welcomed. I start gathering twigs and let my mind wander. Laia had said there was no such thing as safety anymore but she was wrong. At that market today, I had never felt more free, and safe; safe to say and do as I wished without the threat of the Empire behind me. Sure, it's still here but out here you would never know.

I start imagining a life out here, in these woods or that village, where I wouldn't have to keep running and looking behind my back, a life where I could always feel safe. Would Laia want that too? Would she want that kind of life? What about her brother? I had nearly forgotten about my promise to help her free him. I think about it now; the journey, the escape, the rescue. Most importantly, I think about what happens after. Would I come back to that little village and spend my life selling bread at that market? Would I leave this land entirely and truly get away from the Empire? Would Laia come with me wherever I went?

What if we were actually captured? The thinking stops there or I make it stop. Either way, I don't want to even imagine what would happen then. I make the short path back to the cave, my arms loaded with bundles of wood.

"You're back!" She's sitting crisscross next to the fire, the pack from the smith open at her knee. Next to the pack is some sliced bread, cheese and some apples, all laid out on a piece of cloth. Presumably a shirt. She glances at the food than back at me before smiling shyly. "I thought it might be a good time for dinner."

The wood gets dumped by the cave wall and I join her next to the 'dinner.' She doesn't say anything as she slices cheese and layers it on the bread.

"What happened out there?" I don't mean to say it but I do.

She stutters slightly then looks up through her hair. "It doesn't matter."

"Of course it matters!"

She sighs and hands me an apple, bread and cheese. "No, it doesn't."

I scoff and set the food down, no longer interested in eating. "Do you think I'm stupid? Something happened there, something not," I search for a good word, "normal."

"So what if it did, it's over and done with now," she mutters.

"This could help us, Laia, could give us some leverage."

"The only leverage it would give would be to the Empire as more incentive to kill us." It clicks in place so easily that I can't believe I missed it.

"You killed that thing. You incinerated it." She looks again at me, a mixture of sadness and anger on her face. I recall a similar emotion on Helene's face when she told me about her singing. _Magic._

She doesn't verbally confirm my suspicions. Instead, she holds out her hands which are red and blistered as if she has attempted to melt the skin off her bones.

"Oh, Laia," I cradle her hands gently in mine. I'm amazed by how small and fragile hers are in mine. "Do they hurt?"

She shakes her head. "Not even a little." I dig out some bandages for the day trip pack, being careful not to let go of her hands. She doesn't even cringe when I start wrapping them in bandages. "I didn't think about it, it just happened. It happened and then it was gone. And you were on the ground. I thought you were dead."

"It seems I've been almost dead a couple times now," When I glance up, she's smiling. I smile back.

"I guess you should be more careful," she mumbles, her gaze sleepily on my hands as I continue wrapping her burns.

"I guess I should."

When I'm done, I don't draw my hands away. I stare at her small fingers and think about all the questions circling my brain. What was that thing? What else can she do? What happens when this is all over? Will this ever be over?

I force my gaze back to her face and decide to ask one, and only one, question. "Did you see anything?"

She looks puzzled. "When?"

"When that… thing came," I answer, now feeling slightly awkward. "Like a dream?"

She hesitates then shakes her head. Her hesitation is all I need. She saw something too. I decide not to ask what, not tonight at least. "I was worried about you, just so you know," she mutters.

I smirk. "So I guess I need to be more careful and you need to stop worrying so much."

She glances up through her eyelashes at me and laughs. "What a pair we make."


	10. X: Laia

**Thou this chapter may be short in length it was very hard to write. I hope I properly captured Laia and Elias in this 'interesting' scenario (insert winky face). Here's hoping you all enjoy and don't forget I love to hear feedback!**

* * *

 **X: Laia**

He sleeps with one hand tucked under his head, his fingers disappearing between locks of hair. The other hand stretches out in front of him, almost like he is supposed to be holding someone. His legs stay mostly together and slightly bent, only detaching at the knee for the left to reach out mirroring his out stretched hand. The best part is his face. It's calm. Relaxed.

It's too late by the time I notice his eyes are open and he has been staring back at me.

"What is it?" he asks as if my staring is a casual occurrence. His voice is rough and I'm reminded that he just woke.

"Nothing," I mutter, but I trail off at the end of the word. He doesn't look convinced. I'm not even convinced.

"You were staring." Elias looks me up and down. "Is there something on my face?" he asks jokingly.

I shake my head quickly and he smiles. "I was just thinking."

"About what?"

I immediately think about lying, to tell him something about Darin, but instead I tell the truth. "I was thinking about the fact that you looked at ease." His smile starts slowly but quickly grows until it illuminates his entire face. "You always seem to be tense or on edge but when you're asleep… You look different."

"How so?"

I do my best to smile back despite my nervous energy. "There's a crease," I lightly drag my finger between my eyebrows, "between your eyebrows that always seems to appear when you're nervous, but when you're asleep it disappears." Elias blinks and watches as my hand drops back in my lap. The early morning sunlight makes his eyes shine. "And your nose crinkles up when you're ready for a fight."

Elias chuckles. "Crinkles?"

"It scrunches up," I explain half laughing. He brushes a finger across his nose and smirks.

"I never noticed that." I stop myself from making a smart ass comment. A comfortable silence drifts over us. Elias drops his hand and lays back down, this time flat on his back instead of on his side facing me. His hair is ruffled and – no. I stop myself from thinking about his hair, or his smile, or gods forbid his stupid beautiful eyes. Instead, I turn my back completely from him and start packing up the food we didn't eat last night and the med kit. Daylight is upon us, it's time to get moving.

"How are your hands?" Elias calls. I don't turn back around to address him.

"Fine." It's a lie. The pain kept me up most of the night and even when I did manage to fall asleep I would wake up in fear of my skin burning off. "How's your cut?"

I hear rustling and assume he is checking the wound. "Healing nicely, bandages need changing though." The thought crosses my mind to offer to do it for him, if only to feel his bare skin again. Instead, I toss a ball of bandages over my shoulder without looking back. "Thanks."

"Alright, everything is packed up so we should get moving again. We lost a lot of travel time, but I think we can make it up if we move quickly. There's a trail a bit West of here that a lady at the market mentioned that could help us avoid the - ," I stop mid sentence after turning around. Elias has stood up and stripped off his shirt. He glances up from rewrapping the bandage around the lower part of his torso and I quickly have to avert my gaze.

Oh shit. I'm in deep shit.

"Avoid what?" I keep my gaze on the cave floor trying to find something to do with my hands, anything as a distraction.

"Huh?"

"You were talking about a trail," Elias mutters. I steal a glance at him. His muscles are flexed- of course – and he's attempting to wrap the end of the bandage around this back. Elias's entire bare chest is glowing in the morning sunlight.

Deep shit.

"Laia?" My eyes shoot up so quickly I worry they might have fallen out.

"Yeah!"

Elias is smirking. His arms dangle at his side, the remaining bandage wrapped in a messy knot in his left hand. I force my gaze on his face, on the place where the crease will inevitably form. "You were saying something about a trail."

"Ah yeah, the trail." All my nervous energy starts to overflow resulting in me awkwardly rocking back on my feet. "The lady said it would, ah, let us avoid the main road. At least for a little bit."

He nods and thankfully doesn't say anything about my strange behavior. Of course I've always thought Elias was attractive, especially in a different way from Keenan. Whereas Keenan was lean, Elias is all hard muscle; tough muscle that has been crafted and built for battle. It sends a shiver up spine to think he was trained and created to be the perfect warrior. All of a sudden, I can't manage to fill my lungs as Elias turns around to grab his shirt and I'm staring at his back; his scared back.

"Elias," I whisper, fearful to even move. The long lines of scars trace paths down his back in every way. Some look older and re-healed multiple times and some look fresh; maybe even as new as a few days ago. He spins around alarmed, the shirt falling from his hands forgotten. I whisper his name again because it's the only thing I can think to say. Elias just stares, uncertain what to make of my outburst. He takes a hesitant step forward, a hand outstretched.

"Laia? What happened, is it your hands?" My head whips from side to side so fast I'm surprised it's not rolling on the floor.

"Your – your back," I mumble between the fingers pressed against my gaping mouth.

He stops in his tracks and stares. The crease forms once again and the irony almost eases my tension. "It's not a big deal," he says slowly making sure his words soak in.

I just about laugh. "How can that not be a big deal?" His face falls.

"It's just not," he rubs at his neck and I realize he might feel awkward talking about this. "It was how they kept us in line at Blackcliff."

I gap for a moment before shutting my mouth. "Elias, I'm sorry, I didn't know."

"Just forget it alright," He grumbles, quickly pulling back on his shirt. My heart drops.

"Elias," I mumble. He turns around and starts packing up the rest of this things but I know it's just a distraction. "Elias, please, I didn't mean to embarrass you or -."

He twists around so fast I stumble backwards to avoid being knocked over. "I'm not embarrassed by them and I never have been. But I don't need you looking at me like I'm some fragile thing now. I don't want you to look at me now and only see the scars, because that's all they are. They are scars, that's it. They don't make me weak so stop looking at me like I might break."

I swallow through my dry throat and feel my heart start to sink lower. "I never meant that. You're not weak, Elias." He has turned back to packing up equipment. "Elias." My hand reaches out without me thinking and there it stays frozen above his back.

"That's what I mean," He bellows turning around and snatching my wrist. "You're too afraid to touch me now. What do you think I'm going to fall to dust?"

I can't think. I can't muster up any words of kindness or forgiveness so I do the only thing I can think of.

I kiss him.

* * *

 **Quick Note: Does anyone have ideas about the 'girl' in Elias's vision from last chapter? I would love to hear your theories. Some hints were dropped in that chapter and others that might reveal who it really was. Hope you all have a lovely day and let me know you thoughts**


	11. XI: Helene

**Sorry for taking so long to update! With A Torch Against The Night now out do you guys want me to continue the story? I've been thinking of continuing it until I read A Torch Against The Night, but that won't be for a while as I already have too many books to read as it is. What do you guys want? Let me know if I guys like the story and want me to continue.**

* * *

 **XI: Helene**

I never liked the word steal, it implied something vicious. That's why when I snuck back into Marcus's office the night before my departure I didn't 'steal' that book, I simply borrowed it with a lacking intention of returning it. Besides it wasn't like he was going to miss it. Marcus was never one to fill his time with reading, mostly he choose to spend it at the docks.

With the book buried deep within my bag, arranged around some questionable undergarments to distract anyone from looking further, I headed out with my platoon before the sun had barely crested over the mountain tops.

"Well don't you seem cheerful today."

Faris was riding behind me so I had to strain my neck to glare at him, but the effort was worth it. "I'm sorry would you like me to flirtatiously laugh and smile at your every word."

Faris smirked. "That would be desired, yes."

I scoffed and Dex chuckled beside Faris. They we ridding side by side on matching black steeds while I rode in front on a grey horse decorated with shining armor. "That's also very unlikely."

"I didn't hear a no!" Faris raised a hand to his ear, the other holding tight to his reins. "Did you hear a no, Dex? I sure as hell didn't!"

"Approaching Platoon." I turned back around and watched as the guards and Masks on duty scrambled to lift the metal Gate door enclosing the city. As I approached the metal door a member of the guard bravely stepped out of line, bowed once, deep enough so his head nearly grazed the ground, then straightened and addressed me. "Blood Shrike, Letter of Declaration?"

My grip loosened on the rein and the horse stilled for me to jump down. The guard looked older then me, at least by five years, but I towered over him. With an exasperated look downwards at him I pulled the letter out of my armor pocket and handed the sealed note to him. Him seemed pleased and quickly returned it with a nod. Just to make sure I got my message across I glared and straightened my shoulders so I stood even taller.

Faris whispered behind me, "A Letter of Declaration?"

"A Marcus feature," Dex explained.

They both silenced as the Gate door lifted all the way up and reveled the world beyond the cities walls, which mostly consisted of trees. Despite the lacking breath taking view I still felt a pit in my stomach. He was out there somewhere, somewhere in that midst of land and sky he was running for his life. And I was about to hunt him down.

"Ride out," I command throwing up the reins and charging out of the city.

* * *

I keep a tight grip on my knife.

It's one thing to be a Mask in the city, its complete different when you're outside the cities walls. The Masks had power in the city. We are feared and we fear nothing. Outside those gates it all goes out the window. Masks still held power but not in the same way. Suddenly we weren't so "untouchable."

My grip tightened, knuckles white, thinking about the creatures I now knew lurked in the dark.

"Lord knows what's out here," Faris muttered, his gaze ridged on the tree line. He was just behind me flanking my right. Dex was to my left.

"What do you mean by that?"

He grinned. "All the stories. The Myths. The Legends," He said. "Some of them must be true."

I didn't have to turn my head to know Dex was rolling his eyes.

"Hey, you doubt me now but just you wait."

Dex passed a knowing glance to Faris. "The only stories you're reading are the ones about naked merladies."

"Not naked," Faris countered.

I countered back. "Right their long, lushes' hair covers their breasts"

When I turned back to cast a glance at my Second and Third I find Faris has turned a slight shade of pink and Dex is smirking.

I hummed to myself, the tree line much less interesting to stare at then Faris's apple red face.

"I'd better you make a fine merlady."

My eyebrows shot up quicker than I ever thought they could.

Dex scoffed behind me and mumbled to Faris, "For your sake I hope you were talking to me."

I didn't need to even look at Faris to reinstate Dex's point. For Faris's sake I hope he was talking to a tree.

Faris took a breath, ready to speak, but was cut off by the rustle in the trees. My horse reared as I yanked her to stop and turned so I faced the tree line. Dex and Faris fell in line beside me and the rest of my patrol held still, waiting to move on my command. The foot soldiers drew a line long down the road, each armed with a gleaming sword. Whatever was in the trees wouldn't get past us.

Another branch snapped, its crunch echoing in the silent forest. Everything had grown quiet. So quiet I could hear my rapid heartbeat and wondered if everyone else could hear it too.

Slowly up surely a figure emerged from the trees. "Hold your stance," I roared staring down at the kid shaped figure. No, an actual child.

The girl stepped forward, gently titling her head so her blond, tangled pigtails bounced around her shoulders. Despite her wide eyes and baby face there was something off putting about the kid. She smiled sinfully up at us.

"Should we take her with us," Dex asked quietly.

"No," I countered back immediately. For some reason I couldn't place there was something off about the girl. I didn't feel the need to get any closer to her. It was as if a dark cloud surrounded her.

"Are you sure," Dex countered back. "She is only a girl."

I whipped my head and glared. How dare he have the nerve to go against my orders? "I said no!" Dex retreated back and cast his gaze to the gravel road, specifically avoiding my stare. I turned to Faris with a questioning gaze, wondering if he too would try and go back on my orders. Faris challenged my stare, but didn't say anything. "Let's keep moving."

Dex rode away first, obviously eager to get away. Faris directed his horse around mine own and the walking soldiers followed, despite the fact I knew he wanted to say something. Maybe she had just wondered away from a village. Maybe she was harmless. Either way I had seen and experienced too much to know to trust when I felt something was off, and something was definitely off about her. I stayed stationary, staring that the girl until she retreated back into the dense brush with no more than a wicked little giggle.

* * *

"The soldiers are ready."

I didn't spare a glance up at the voice. "Then send them out. I want everyone in the town questioned." The door to the conference room shut with a gentle click, but not before I looked up to catch a glimpse of retreating blond hair. Looks like Dex was still avoiding me.

I turned back to the book, hidden beneath an assortment of documents. The long cursive writing danced across the pages, interrupted every few lines by and expertly drawn picture of reference. The page I was staring at, selected at random from the middle of the book, featured sketches of large ominous creatures found only in men's nightmares.

A loud knock echoed on the door. I moved the documents back in place and called, "Enter." Dex stepped into the room, head held high, authoritatively. Maybe I was wrong. My arms rested on top of the papers in an effort to look more like the Commandant I was. The fact they also served as a second barrier to the book hidden beneath was an added bonus.

"Dex," I purred, addressing him in a casual manner. His head dropped a bit as to stare at me. Usually manners between authorities would be held while standing, but I remained sitting, forcing him to drop his chin to look me in the eye. Truthfully it wasn't a huge issue that he had questioned my order in that scenario, but in any other it would be. I needed to reinforce the punishment of that behavior now before it continued. I was a Blood Shrike, no matter how much I didn't want to be. It was time to start acting like one.

"Blood Shrike Aquilla." Interesting, he addressed me very professionally where as I had addressed him by his first name only. I move one arm and started pretending to read over documents while looking bored.

"What have you come for?"

Dim light shone through the dusty Inn window at my back, casting a grey glow on his dark skin as he stepped out of the shadow of the door. It closed with a click. I raised an eyebrow. "I have come to offer my sincerest apologizes."

My other eyebrow shot up. How very interesting. "Do you now?"

"Yes," Dex swallowed cutting off the end of the s. "I would like to apologize for my earlier behavior. I was out of line."

"You were." My head titled to the side in amusement watching him squirm. "You were way out of line."

"And I apologize for those -." I held up by hand. I wasn't finished.

"You were way out of line to question my authority, and you knew it. There's a difference between when we're on duty and when we're not. Do you understand that?" He nodded briskly. "Good. With that being said," A smile crept up my lips, "feel free to continue sassing me at the bar, I like the challenge."

Dex's face dissolved in relief. His shoulders slumped down slightly as he sighed. "I'll remember that," he promised.

"You better," I warned. My voice was dripping with wickedness. Dex gulped again but nodded. I eyed the door, his indicated that he was dismissed. He left without another word.

* * *

"I swear it, I know nothing."

I wanted to believe the lady, believe that she knew nothing of Elias's whereabouts. If Elias was smart at all she'd be telling the truth as he wouldn't have shown his face, but I knew what she was saying was false.

"Liar," a solider spat. I sent him a warning glance then advanced on the lady. She was backed up against a stand packed with vegetables, two swords, each wielded by a different solider, marked targets on her throat. She couldn't get away if she tried.

"We know you're lying," I purred. I watched as a bead of sweat dripped down her forehead.

"I-I'm not," her voice quivered. I wanted to believe her, I so desperately did. I couldn't risk looking like I had given a led away. I would have to force the information from her, no matter how much I didn't want to know. Light hair streaked with strands of grey stuck her forehead as my mask twisted into a smirk.

"Get the whip." In an instant the thick strands of rope was curled between my fingers. I knew I couldn't do though, I couldn't whip this lady for information I didn't want to hear. I would have to eventually, but not now. The solider to my right stepped forward with a wave of my hand. I dropped the whip in his hands and gestured to the lady. "Prove yourself, solider."

Whipping wasn't an uncommon sight at Blackcliff. In fact, we we're lucky if we went a day without seeing a whipping. So it wasn't the whipping that made me momentarily clench my fists, it was the thought of what this was all for. We were doing Marcus's blood work for him.

The lady cried out at the first lash, skin roughly peeling away when the whip dropped. I held out my hand and approached her again. They had stripped her from the waist up, but I had the decency to let stay facing the wall so no one could she her front.

"Still lying?" She whimpered in response. I swallowed a cringe. "More whips!"

She was six whips deep before she finally screamed, "Stop, please." The solider stopped after a confirmative look to me. She was laying on the stone street, blond hair tangled with blood, back exposed to the air, and her arms wrapped around her front.

"Care in enlighten us now," I asked looming tall above her.

"H-He was w-with a girl," she sputtered out.

Fuck.

"The slave," a solider spoke up behind me. I should have punished the solider for speaking out of line, but I didn't have the energy to deal with it now.

"T-they just came f-for food." Idiot, Elias. "That's all I know, please!"

I stared down at the broken women. I was merciless. "Chain her up with horses overnight. I want a constant guard on her at all times. Maybe she'll decide to talk in the morning."

The soldiers watched as I retreated back down the cobblestone stone street, heading back to the Inn without a glance back.


	12. XII: Elias

**XII: Elias**

The steam climbed up from the water in gentle waves, swirling in the air for a few moments before disappearing into the tree tops. Dew droplets settled onto the leaves of neighboring trees reflecting the sunlight into silver beams that shinned across the pool.

"Do you think it's safe," I muttered with skepticism.

Laia turned her head in my direction and glanced up making me very aware of the height difference between us. She pushed a tangled mess of hair out of her eye unaware of the leave tangled in her hair. "I think it'll be the closet we'll get to a real washing for a while."

My eyebrow tipped up. "That's not what I asked," but she wasn't listening. Laia had drifted away towards the pools edge to stare at the clear bubbling water. Her pack was dropped at her feet, forgotten. As she leaned over to examine the water a rush steam blasted her face sending her matted hair flying out behind her head as if she was flying. Laia laughed.

I kept a stern face and trudged up beside her keeping my arms crossed. Laia turned back and smiled then tore off her tunic. My jaw dropped. I stood frozen attempting not to stare. Of course she had an undergarment on but it obviously wasn't made with the intention of hiding anything. Very impractical, I mussed keeping my eyes pointed upwards. I heard her trousers hit the forest floor then a loud splash.

When I figured I was allowed to look I found her immersed in the water, eyes peeking out over the surface of the water. Steam fogged my view casting her in a pale grey light as oppose to the usual tan glow her skin held. Laia straightened up enough that her head stuck out above the water.

"Are you coming," She asked with a stunningly innocent tone and a wicked smirk. I watched as she sunk back down in the water, her dark hair fanning out around her. I wanted to join her, to possibly feel clean again, but something held me back. It wasn't that I thought the water was unsafe or that we might be ambushed at this exact moment (which was still a probability), but something else.

Another male might have jumped at the chance to bath with a half clothed woman, but this was Laia. Something about it felt wrong. No, not wrong, strange; like I would somehow be disrespecting her.

"You wash up. I'll go keep watch." I didn't turn back and glance her way as I made my way out of the clearing and back into the gathering of trees even though I knew she was wide-eyed staring at my retreating figure.

The echoed silence of the forest offered no comfort. I propped myself on a flatten rock and drew out a blade as precaution. Despite the fact I was supposed to be on guard my mind kept drifting back Laia tugging off her shirt without warning.

She was thinner than I last remembered, as if our short journey had already taken its toll on her. The sharp panes of her ribs and hips stuck out through the undergarment while the rest of it clung to her chest. She wasn't big, but she wasn't smaller ether; a good size.

Pain burst across my palm and I stretched out my hand to realize I had gripped the knife too tight and cut into my skin. Cursing myself I dug out a spare bandage and wrapped up the minor injury. A good size, I scoffed to myself. If I had the ego or the dignity to punch myself in the face I would. Thinking about Laia's breasts, what good would that do me? Nothing.

The blade dug into my palm again at the echo of the word 'breasts' bouncing around in my head. This time I slowly pulled it away and set it on the rock before I sliced open more skin and really did some damage. And god knows I could think about this topic.

I tried to focus on planning our route. If I was going to just sit here and wait for her to be done I could try and make myself usefully. I drew a map in my head tracing our path through the trees, skirting along the edge of Antium, crossing the Taius River, making our way through the Nevennes Range until only the Dusk River stood between us and the Kauf Prison. Other than breaking into the prison, crossing the Dusk River would pose the hardest challenge. Those waters are closely guarded and there was no way around it as the water way flowed the entire circumference of the prison. It would come down to sailing a stolen boat across, which could get us killed, or swimming across, which could also get us killed.

Odds are not in our favour.

The gentle breeze through the treetops whistled through the forest as I leaned back and traced the pattern continuously in my mind until a gentle splash pulled me back to reality. Something drew me back to the clearing too quickly even though I knew she wouldn't be re-dressed yet. I held back, hidden between trees. I knew it was wrong, to spy, but I was doing it anyway.

Laia was standing at the edge of the pool, water still dancing across her feet. An extra shirt hung around her shoulder like a makeshift towel. Her hair, even darker that it was now wet, dripped down her back which was turned to me.

I should have moved, but I didn't, I couldn't. I was rooted in my place like a tree. Slowly, she turned back so I had a clear view of her. Her eyes skipped over me as she gazed at the tree line. She didn't know I was there. Her movements her fluid as if the warm water had melted all the hard, jagged lines away. Even the purple circles that had started to develop under her eyes were smoothed over by the glossy tan of her skin.

She was so beautiful.

The breath caught in my throat as she stepped away from the water and let the shirt sink to the forest floor. She had taken off her top undergarment. From her waist up, everything was on display. I couldn't get air into my lungs fast enough to even attempt a shaky breath.

If any God was watching over us now surely they would be cursing at my behavior, but I didn't care. I was a tree. I could not move. I couldn't even breathe.

She stretched out her arms, oblivious to the fact that if I hadn't been able to see anything before now I surely could. She was so, so beautiful.

Laia turned and eyed the pond again as if she was contemplating climbing back into its warm embrace. The line down her back arched as she stretched again and I sucked in breath. She was short compared to me, yet her legs seemed to stretch on forever.

I leaned forward subconsciously, aching to get a better view. A twig snapped under my foot. I cursed.

Laia spun around like a deer caught in the road, forgetting to cover her chest. Her eyes were wide and striking as she scanned the tree line before realizing she was exposed. The shirt was quickly back in her hands and wrapped around her front. I could walk away, I thought, judging how quickly I could sneak off without her knowing. I could sneak off and she would never have to know it was me, but just as I making my get away her eyes tracked mine. Purely anger flashed behind her dark eyes.

I slowly drew myself out of the trees and into the clearing until I was clearly in her line of sight. I imagined I looked like terrified dog caught in the act of chewing up its owner's shoe.

Laia cursed. "What the hell, Elias." She cursed again, this time louder. Her body was nearly trembling with rage. "How long were you standing there," She questioned.

"Not long," I answered sulking, keeping my eyes anywhere but at her.

"I can't believe you," she snapped. "I thought you were better than that." My heart dropped. I am, I was.

"I'm sorry," I whispered still keeping my head bent. I felt sick.

"I'm sure," Laia scoffed. She grabbed a fresh change of clothes and stormed off into the tress barking back at me, "wash up, and fast! I want to get moving again." She was gone.

* * *

The water was unpleasantly hot and I couldn't get my brain to stop spinning. My stomach wouldn't settle ether and I constantly had to keep by the shore in fear I might actually get sick. She was hurt and I had hurt her. I followed her orders, washing quickly and thoroughly before climbing out and changing back into fresh clothes. I hadn't bothered to keep any undergarments on. It would have been a waste to get them wet anyway.

I found her sitting on the same rock I had been on, a blade gripped tightly in one hand like she expected an army to burst through the tress at any moment. Wordlessly, I handed her her forgotten pack and set out north into the thick of the trees. Her light footsteps behind me was the only indication she gave that she was at least following.

It was dark by the time we stopped to make camp in small clearing surrounding my large boulders. Laia pushed around me, keeping her gaze away from mine as she unpacked food and water.

"I'll grab some sticks for a fire," she muttered before disappearing behind a boulder the size of her, if not bigger. I exhaled sharply and leaned back against the rock at my back. The walk had done nothing to settle my jittery nerves or my twisting stomach. Usually, in this scenario, I would drift off to the training rooms at Blackcliff and beat the shit out of some training dummies, or Faris, until my nerves were settled. Out here, that wasn't an option. I opted for a large gulp of water followed by a few deep breathes. It was my own fault why I felt like this. If I had just stayed on that damn rock…

Laia returned with a bundle of sticks clenched in either fist. She worked silently to build a fire, shooting me a glare when I asked to help. I got the message, sinking on the ground as far away as I could get without looking put-off by her. The last thing I wanted to do was make her feel worse.

She settled back against the rock mirroring my position as the small fire blazed between us. The stars grew in plenty as we ate our small ration of food. I made a mental checklist to start catching some meat, maybe make a bow and arrow

Laia set down her half eaten apple and started at me. It was impossible to look anywhere but at her when she was so intent on staring me down.

"Why'd you do it?"

I nearly choked. "What?"

"Why did you look," she replied like this was a card game and she knew she had the best hand.

"I don't know," I answered simply. Why did I look?

Laia looked unimpressed. "That's not an answer." I didn't want to fight with her, but I also couldn't think of anything better to say.

"I'm sorry," I answered back. "It was wrong; I never should have done it."

"So you knew it was wrong. But then why did you back out in the start?"

"I don't know."

"Elias," she snapped. She defiantly had the better hand.

I sighed. "It felt… strange."

"Strange? Like wrong?"

"No," I muttered while her face dropped slightly. "Strange, like it would be disrespecting you." She nodded while staring at the flames licking up to the sky. "I didn't mean it to offend you, I just figured-."

"But you looked."

"I don't know why I did," I was getting flustered. "You were just there and you didn't know _I_ was there and you were so beautiful-." I swallowed my words realized what I had just said. I looked up and Laia was staring, but not at the fire, at me. Her hand shook as she reached up to tug a stray piece of hair away from her face.

"You… you thought I was beautiful?" Her voice was shaky and it made my heart break to think she didn't realize how beautiful she was.

"Are. You are beautiful," I said. Already admitted it, might as well go the whole way. Laia looked as if she was going to cry or throw a dagger at my heart (literally). I couldn't tell which. Her movements were jerky as she stood. The hard lines once again retraced by my own doing.

She stepped around the fire and walked to me with slow steps. I could only hear my own breath running jagged in my throat. Laia knelt in front of me and did the last thing I expected from her. She kissed me.

It wasn't quick and gentle. Her lips pressed roughly against mine leaving no room to breathe. I was scared, to scared to move while she climbed into my lap and pressed the length of her body against mine, but quickly pulled away when she realized I wasn't kissing her back. Her hands were cradling my head while mine shook violently at my sides. Her breathe mingled with mine in the space between our lips. What was she doing?

"I forgive you," she whispered then pressed her lips against mine again softly. This time I acted, raising my hand to curve against her back and hips while her own hands moved to tangle in my hair. She was so warm and soft. And she smelt like nature. Laia was beautiful.

She pulled away again, but only so our lips barely broke apart. "Besides," she whispered. "You're not so bad yourself," then winked.


	13. XIII: Laia

**Sorry about such along wait for this chapter. I hope you all like it though!**

* * *

 **XIII: Laia**

It was a strange feeling to be this close to someone. If I concentrated I could hear the breathe escape from between his lips and the sound of his heart beating against his chest. Of course I had been close to other people, but never like this. Never before had I been freely allowed to gaze at someone up close, to watch the way their eyelashes flutter during a dream.

He has a single freckle on his right cheek, just below his eye. Compared to the rest of his skin is outstandingly imperfect. But you could only see it if your nose was close enough to graze his, and mine was. I hold my breath as I leaned in closer, eager to see if I could discover more. His eyes open and I am caught hovering over him like a murderer about to kill, but he smiles. He has a gentle kind of smile that makes me instantly want to melt into his arms.

Elias leans upward and presses his mouth to mine. His hands trail up my back and slip under the fabric of my top.

"Elias," I mumble and pull away ever so slightly. With swift movements he tilts his head to the side and smiles again. I notice his eyes sparkled in the morning light. Maybe it was something about the light layer of dew on the grass or the prospect of a new day. Either way he looks happier than I had ever seen him.

"Good morning," he sighs as if this was a casual endeavor.

"Good morning."

He starts to trace circles along my back in such a lazy way that it makes me sigh. Ignoring the forest around us, and the lack of an actual bed, it would be easy to imagine this as my life. Waking up next to him and to the feeling of his fingertips on my bare skin, however cold they were.

But this isn't my life, this isn't reality. Here we are only hiding from what is actually happening. Reality is cruel and mean and nothing like this.

His mouth is on mine again but I'm too caught in my head to focus on his touch. "Elias," I groan, tracing a hand down his single freckled cheek to break us apart.

"What is it?"

I give him a sad smile. "This… this isn't right."

His arms loosens around me suddenly I feel like escaping. His eyebrows scrunch together. "What do mean?"

"Elias, this isn't reality." Oddly enough, I feel the tension in my shoulders relax, but he still looks puzzled. "This, us, it isn't feasible."

"You don't know that."

"But I do!"

He draws away from me then and sits up forcing me retreat back to my own side of the 'bed.' Suddenly I'm cold without his touch. Elias stares at me, but I can't read his expression. It wasn't until now that I realized how hard it was to read his face. He could be excited right now or plotting a murder and I wouldn't know the difference.

"You don't _know_ , Laia. You only think you do."

I was still lying on the bed, not wanting to completely wake, but at that I sit up, throwing the scruffy blanket away. "You don't know what I think!"

"Laia, that's not what I meant." He reaches out to brace a hand on my shoulder and I let me. "I just mean you can make more from life than you think." I feel the tension building again. "You think something's off limits, that you can't have it, but I've already proven that wrong."

I laugh and answer sarcastically, "Yeah and we're running for our lives because of it."

"Laia." I challenge him, eyebrows raised. "I'm just saying you don't need to throw this away so quickly."

"I don't want to."

"Then don't!" His other hand braces itself on my check, cradling my face. I lean into his touch. "Laia." His voice is like wind dancing over water. "Don't throw away a chance to be happy."

I want press myself against him again, to feel the reassuring warmth of his body so close to mine. His other hand moves so both are cradling my head like a delicate jewel. My voice quivers, "I don't think I know how to be happy anymore."

* * *

We don't talk much after that. Instead, we gather up our things in silence. But despite the quietness it doesn't feel awkward. It is calming, the silence. It gives me a chance to ponder what he had said and I have come to the conclusion that maybe he was right. We aren't hurting anyone, but that didn't mean someone wouldn't get hurt. There might come a time when our relationship is putting everything on the line, and what happens then. Would Elias stand by me, stand by us? Surely it would be better to end this now, but some part of me can't find the nerve to do so. I'm not sure if it is actual happiness or the prospect of it, but something about the idea of never kissing him again scares me more than it should.

I watch the back of his head as we walk. The main road is to our right meaning the river should be to our left, but I can't hear it yet; I long to hear it, the raging water and crystal steams. I imagine us setting up camp by the river. Me, tucked into a bundle of blankets watching the stars. Elias, cooking freshly caught fish on an open fire casting gentle smiles my way. We would spend the night kissing and staring at the stars, wondering what might become of us when the morning light shines.

I'm too caught up in thought to notice the sound of the water or the fact the rocky shore was down beneath my feet and I had lost balance. Elias's arm comes out to steady me before I could think to stop my fall. While I want to tell him the help was unnecessary I keep my mouth shut. If it wasn't for him I would probably be face down on the rocky shore. He looks me up and down, but doesn't say anything. I am thankful. Instead he turns back to the river and starts unpacking the water bottles that had ran empty yesterday. I follow suit.

The silence is eaten up by sound of the rapids rushing through the forest. If someone was to sneak up on us now it would be unlikely that we would hear them, and that made me nervous. I rush through filling the bottles, eager to stand and get a look around.

Where the river flows the tress part way and the sky opens up to look like a winding pattern of a snake. It's a clear day, not a cloud in sight. But that doesn't ease my mood. I thought seeing the river would ease some tension. I thought it would reassure me that we were on the right path; instead it has only created more tension.

I'm about to suggest me move on when a shadow passed behind the trees. It could be an animal, but I know it isn't. I don't know how I know, but I just do. Someone is out there.

"Elias we need to go now," I whisper harshly, only he is no longer at my side. The water bottles are over turned on their side and I watch as one drifts down the river getting crushed against the force of the rapids. Cautiously, I turn my back to the trees and stare at the opposite shore line where Elias struggles, a knife held to his throat by a Mask.


	14. XIV: Helene

**XIV: Helene**

I pace the space of my room, taking turn's between staring at the window and wall near the door. The hostel room isn't quite big enough to pace more than an few times each way, but it's better than sitting still. The sun has already set, casting long shadows along the walls and floor. I turn back to the window, watching the steady blackness outside before turning back to the door again. A knock echoes through the room and I'm over at the door in a matter of moments.

Faris stands in the hall, his hair a shrew and a stack of papers in his hand. A sad smile creeps up his face. "I thought you might still be up."

"I'm surprised you are too," I answer opening the door to let him in. Faris steps around me, close enough I can smell the sweet perfume clinging to his skin. I chuckle under my breath as he passes by and in turn he glares back at me. "Well you certainty weren't sleeping."

"And I got rudely interrupted." He sits on the corner the small desk.

"How horrible."

Faris nods solemnly then shakes his head as if remembering why he came here. "I'm supposed to give you these."

He hands me the thin stack of papers. "What are they?"

"Reports, everything we gathered from the villagers on Elias and the girl."

"Which doesn't seem to be a lot," I mumble, flipping through paper after paper of scribbled writing all saying the same thing. You'd think after a day or two we could have gathered better information.

"Well we were hoping that lady would crack, but we couldn't get anything out of her." Had that lady talked it could have been the lead I need to find him, now the chances of finding him were dwindling.

"Who talked to her? Did you try everything, bribing?"

"Helene," Faris snaps. I realize I've started pacing again. He cocks an eyebrow at me from the corner of the desk and I stop, sliding down to sit on the edge of the bed. "We tried everything. She wouldn't talk, but we sent out a squadron so hopefully they can catch on to their trail."

I snap my head up. "You what."

"I sent out a squadron," Faris mumbles, eyeing me like I look like I'm going to bite his head off, which I might just do.

"Under who's orders?"

"Mine, I'm Second in commander."

"I'm First and I didn't give you the right to make that call," I snap. Suddenly the bed is no longer under me and I'm standing over Faris, scarlet in the face. Normally I'm shorter than him but since he's sitting I tower over him.

"Well it's done now and it's going to help us find him," Faris snaps back. He stands and we're face to face, noses almost touching. "That is what you want isn't."

I stare at him up through my eyelashes daring him to make a move. He knows I could take him and probably win, but instead he steps back, leaning against the desk again. He watches me, a look of solitude on his face.

"You don't want to find him," Faris mumbles coming to a realization. I keep my face as still as stone as he watches me, waiting to get a reaction. I won't give him one.

"I never said that," I tell him.

"But you're not denying it." I cast my eyes down once and that's all he needs to jump. "Helene you can't disobey orders. Marcus can't kill you, but he could do much worse. We come back empty handed and Dex and I pay for it. It will be our heads on a stick is that what you want?"

My eyes stay casted down. I don't want to see him, I don't want to see the look of pity in his eyes, pity directed at me. "Faris…"

He steps closer. "Is that what you want?"

"You know that's not what I want!"

"Do I?"

The room grows silent and I wish desperately for a distraction. Faris keeps watching me, making my skin crawl. All his usual humor is gone and his face is only stone cold. I contemplate if I could escape to the door without him taking me down. "You know me, Faris."

"Not like I thought I did."

"And how did you think you knew me."

He sighs, running a hand through his hair, and steps closer again. The smell of that god awful perfume is overwhelming now. "I thought you would always follow orders. I thought you would do what's best for the majority, but I guess you're just set on protecting _him_."

"If I don't who will?"

"He left us, Helene!"

"If he stayed he would have died!"

"You never run from a fight."

My jaw drops to the floor. "Just like you're not supposed to leave a man behind? You left him to die, Faris. We left him to die. I was going to kill him!" My voice cracks at the last words and without meaning to I slide down to sit on the bed. "I would have killed him."

"Helene," Faris mumbles. He bends down so we're eye to eye again and I watch his he lightly brushes his fingers against mine, but I don't want his comfort.

"If that squadron finds him and kills him it's on your head, Faris," I mutter. "You'll be responsible for his death." The room grows silent after that and I watch as he slowly gets up and leaves, leaving me alone in the room. It's only when the door clicks shut and dark shadows fill the space Faris was standing in that I realize a single tear has slide down my cheek.

* * *

I avoid Faris in the morning, which proves to very easy considering a collection of girls have latched on to him. He's probably slept with all of them, I think to myself, bypassing him in the dining hall. The group of girls giggle as Faris jokes, but I feel his eyes track me as I cross the dining hall to where Dex stands waiting for food.

"Morning," I mumble, avoiding Faris's gaze. Dex casts me a look but doesn't say anything. Instead he grunts and passes me a cup of coffee. I watch Faris's back as he flirts with every girl in the room and I absent mindedly wonder which of their perfume I smelt last night.

"Helene?"

I cast my attention to Dex. He's holding out a plate me. "You okay?"

"Fine," I mumble. "I'm not hungry." Then I push my way out of the food line and hurry to the exit. Fresh air, that's all I need; a little fresh air to clear my head.

The morning sun is bright, but inviting. I walk along the side of the building watching as soldiers march by, each of them saluting me as they go; me, their leader, except I don't feel like much of a leader. The path snakes up a hill and disappears into the forest. I keep walking hoping to get away from the people down the hill. I just want to be alone. Some fresh air and some time to think, that's what I need.

As I walk down the path the noise of the town starts to disappear and is replaced by the sound of rustling tree tops. I breathe in the deep smell of the pine, listening to the rhythmic crunching of my boots on the gravel path. It's the most at peace I've felt since leaving Blackcliff, although a small part of me misses the predictability of the place, how I could just get up in the morning and know where I needed to be and when.

The forest opens up to a clearing in which I plant myself down on one of the fallen logs. It's not like me, I think, to run away from my problems. Then I remind myself I'm not running away, I'm just taking a breather, a much needed breather. It hadn't sunk in what I was saying to Faris until after he left and now it terrifies me. It terrifies me to think that I had almost killed Elias, and I would have let him die, and for what, to appease Marcus? I would have let Elias die at Marcus's hands, and it wasn't even me who stopped it. It was that girl. The girl Elias ran away with and left me behind. But he didn't leave me behind did he? I forced him to go, he had to go, he even offered to take me with him, but I couldn't go. And in turn I said I would protect him, I would protect him that last time, but I was lying. I've been protecting him this whole time. We're supposed to be enemies since the moment he disappeared into the tunnel but the only thing I've done since then was protect him. All I've ever done was protect him, and by the way it's going its looks like that's what I'm going to be doing until the day I die. He was wrong about where my loyalties lie. He thought I was loyal to the Mask's, but he was wrong. It seems I'm only loyal to him.

A twig snaps and my attention drifts to the path I came from. I jump up from the log, drawing out a knife hidden up my sleeve. Another twig snaps down the path and I crouch low behind a tree keeping my eyes focused on the entrance of the clearing, expect no one comes. I don't risk stepping back out into the clearing; instead I snake around it keeping hidden by the trees. Once I'm in positioned at the entrance of the clearing I draw another blade from my boot. Whoever thinks they can sneak up on me is horribly mistaken. Another crunch and shadow crosses the path. I'm silent as feather drifting through the wind, leaping out of the trees. I hold a blade up to his throat and one up to his side, then tip the blade up his chin, bending his head all the way back until his throat is exposed.

"Helene," Faris sputters, holding up his hands in defense. I sigh, kicking him away. Faris stumbles, but rights himself and I realize the perfume stench is still clinging to his clothes.

"What do you want," I mutter watching as he brushes nonexistent dirty off his clothes.

"I want to talk, Helene."

I glare. "I think we've done enough of that."

"Helene-."

"Leave, Faris, before I decide to use my knives on you like I intended."

Faris moves away as I stepped around him, pretending to clean my blades on the end of my jacket. "Do you want to fight, Helene? Is that what you want?"

My back is to him, but I hear the snarl in his voice. I reel around, launching a blade through the air. It sails just past Faris's head, embedding itself in a tree behind him. I watch, satisfied, as a lock of his hair falls through the air. He turns back to look at the knife stuck in the trunk of the tree then looks back at me.

"I'm not going to fight you," Faris says and I realized I've pulled the exact same move on Marcus before.

"Why not, you just asked me to. Come on, Faris!" I draw another blade, my anger boiling over.

"Helene…" The knife sails past the opposite side of his head. He doesn't bother to look back at the blade this time. Instead he pulls out his own blade from the waistband of his trousers and steps back into his fight stance, knife held up to protect his face. I leap on him as fast as lightning, slashing the air with blades pulled from my jacket. He steps away, avoiding a hit that would have landed in his chest, but he doesn't step far enough back. I kick his leg back as he steps, catching him off guard. I stand and watch as he stumbles, but quickly regains his balance. He twists around, hair a floppy mess, and slashes at my left side. The blow was easy to block, a messy hit. He isn't trying.

"Come on, Faris. I said I wanted a fight," I shout, blocking another blow. I stab at his arm and he fumbles to recover. "Fight Faris!"

He shakes his head to push the hair away from his face and growls up at me. I smirk, finally having awoken the beast. He leaps on me, cutting at left side then my right. I block each blow, once with the sleeve of my jacket and the next with my blade. A growl escapes as I watch the fabric tear on my jacket. Faris steps back, thinking he's hurt me, but I jump on him, our blades clashing in the air.

"We don't need to do this," He pants while dodging an expertly place blow to his hip. I ignore him, striking again at his hip. "I just wanted to talk to you!"

His knife sails through the air, clipping the top of my ear, and lodging itself in the tree at my back. I feel the hot blood start to tickle down my neck.

"Listen to me," Faris shouts, panting. "I'm on your side, Helene. I am, but I'm not going to let you make a stupid choice that could end up getting you killed."

"It's my choice to make," I shout back. Blood drips on to the gravel at my feet. My blade flies through the air knocking the knife out of his hand. He's defenceless, but I'm too mad to care. He steps back to avoid my blows, but I'm relentless, striking at his side, his arms, and his legs.

"You can't protect him," Faris pants and stumbles back again. "Not anymore."

He's right, I know he's right. If I keep trying to protect Cain won't hold up his word and I just might end up hurting Elias further, but some part of me can't admit it. A part of me doesn't want him to be right. I keep hitting, and he keeps dodging until I hear a shout from down the path.

"Attacker!"

I watch as the dagger soars through the air and embeds itself in Faris's side

* * *

The blood comes fast and hot. Faris just stands there staring at the knife. He pulled it out and now the wound is gushing, but I can't move. The blood drips down his arm and stains the gravel path. Faris falls and the sound of his body hitting the ground is the most horrifying thing I've ever heard. It's a blur, everything's a blur, but I'm at his side and I don't know how I got there. My hands are coated with his blood.

"Faris," I whimper. "Faris?"

His chest shakes with ragged breathes and eyes dart up to the tree tops. My hands press into his side while the dagger lies still in his hand. I can feel the blood pumping through his veins, I can feel it leaving his body and soaking my hands. Someone pulls at my shoulders and suddenly my eyes are on the tree tops too. I'm shouting, but someone has me pinned down. Dex.

"Let me go! Let me go," I scream. "I can help him."

"You can't help him Helene," Dex snarls, turning his head to shout orders and the men crowding around Faris. Over his shoulder I see a solider standing by the trees, his hands shaking and look of utter fear in his eyes.

"You did this," I shout. "You stabbed him."

Dex looks back at me, eyes wide, blocking my view of the solider; a kid really, he looks far too young to be out in the field. "Stop shouting." I fight against him. "You're a leader, Helene. Act like it!"

I still and his hold on my shoulders eases. Dex eyes me as I straighten my breathing and start to sit up. He's kneeling in the gravel while members of my platoon haul Faris away back down the path.

"Where are they taking him?" He doesn't answer. "Where are they taking Faris? I can help him. I need to get to him!"

I launch off the gravel, but Dex has me in his grip to easily. I may be a better fighter but Dex is bigger and stronger than me. He grips my shoulders pushing me back until I'm back on the ground. Dex leans over me holding his arm against my throat to keep me from shouting. This time he doesn't shout at me, instead he lets me ride it out, lets me shake and argue until my fight is drained and I go limp in his grasp.

"I can save him," I whimper.

"You can't," Dex answers, he's head held low. "But they're going to do everything they can, okay?"

"No, no it's not enough!"

"Helene, you can't."

"Stop saying that."

Dex looks down at me in pity and I see how much it hurts him to hold me back. He wants to help Faris too, but he's staying here dealing me and my mess; this mess that I created. I notice the solider is still standing there, dumbstruck, staring at the place where Faris was lying. In one swift movement I knock Dex to the side. He groans as he hits the pathway and I bolt up, launching myself at the kid. He turns to look at me, but doesn't move.

I tackle him to the forest floor, stealing the knife from his hand and holding it to his throat. It's still stained with his blood. The kid's eyes are wide but all he says is "Do it."

"Helene," I hear Dex call from a far off place.

"Do it," the kid whispers again. "I deserve it, I did it." I don't do it; I can't, even though I know I should. He deserves it.

"Helene!" Dex pulls me off the kid so aggressively my feet leave the ground. He growls in my ear and tosses me to the ground away from the kid. I snarl, but don't get back up. Dex is staring at me, wildness in his eyes I've never seen. Then he turns away from me and helps the kid to his feet with a slight hesitation only I would notice. The kid scurries to his feet, taking one look at me and Dex, then runs off back to the town. Dex turns back to me then.

"What were you thinking," he yells.

"He stabbed Faris!"

"He was trying to protect you."

"It makes no difference," I shout back.

"It makes all the difference!"

Dex shakes his head and walks around me in a circle. "I need to get to him, I can help him."

He looks back at me again. "How?"

My voice catches. He wouldn't believe me even if I told him. Why would he, it's ridiculous. "I just can."

"No, you've done enough," He mutters and starts walking back to the town. I trail after him, back down the hill. As we walk I watch the path of blood made by Faris as they hauled him down the path. He's going to die, I think. They're going to let him die because they can't do anything to save him.

Dex stops at the hostel and looks back at me with more pity than I've ever seen in anyone's eyes.

"They took him to a healer down the street," he mumbles. I take off running before he's finished speaking.


	15. XV: Elias

**XV: Elias**

The world breathes in.

And I breathe out.

I come to the startling realization that I am in fact still alive very slowly, blaming it on the pounding ache in my head. A list of to-do's starts forming in my head, starting with finding a way to escape, then killing the Mask that's currently dragging me by my feet. The later only comes in second by a close margin.

I blink my eyes open slowly, catching quick glimpses of greenery and spots of grey. They are marching us through the forest. Correction; they are dragging us through the forest. I keep my body still, lest I alert them I'm awake and loose my one upper hand. The Mask, whose clammy hands are holding my ankles, pauses making quick chat with the other. At least they had the consideration to carry Laia rather than drag her through the muddy leaves, unlike me. The one with clammy hands glances back and I shut my eyes again.

"How much farther," Clammy hands asks. He has a coarse voice as if he spends more time swearing and drinking than anything else.

A pause, then a response, "Not much."They're hesitant, I suspect. I consider that fact, wondering if I may have just gotten another upper hand. If they don't know where they are going they may drop their guard.

Laia groans and my eyes fly open, completely forgetting they may be watching. Thankfully the two Masks have turned back to examine the path ahead. Laia's eyelashes flicker and I pray under my breath she doesn't move.

She doesn't.

Laia lets out another small groan then settles back, hopefully still asleep. The dragging starts again and I curse silently as a branch smacks me across the face.

They drag us for hours through thick brush, and each step I pray Laia stays asleep. At the very least if she's asleep they won't try and get information out of her. I long to reach out to her, just to feel her presence so I can believe, if only for a brief moment, that we will be okay. But I know the consequences of my actions, I knew what I was doing when I ran and I got too careless; I got caught. Helene promised to protect me that one last time but now we're enemies, now she's loyal to Marcus (or as loyal as she can be), and so the Mask's drag Laia and I to our enemy, to our death.

They didn't have to tell me Helene was leading the search, it was obvious. We both knew Marcus would send her out to track me down; his special form of fun and punishment. I wonder to myself if Faris and Dex are with her. A part of me hopes they are there for her, that she's not facing Marcus alone, but the other half of me hopes they're back in the city far away from here so they don't see me weak like this. That is what I am, I think; weak. I got caught, I got us caught. I risked Laia's life and for what? We never even made it half way.

Clammy hands stops, dropping my ankles so forcefully my whole body rattles and says, "We set up camp." The other one, I have yet to come up with a good name for yet, look's befuddled

"Why," he asks, a tinge of annoyance brought out on the single word.

"It's getting dark, and cold," Clammy hands mutters as if the other has no real brain cells and needs everything spelt out. "And I'm damn tired of walking."

"We need to get back to camp."

"Screw that," Clammy hands scowls. "They won't be thinking of anything but our rewards when we drag these two into camp."

"After the Blood Shrike notices we disobeyed orders and left on our own?" It's a sarcastic remake if I have ever heard one. My eyes crack open. Clammy hands has deposited me next to a tree and Laia to my right while they stand in a clearing of trees, arguing like children.

"Didn't you hear me? We are bringing back the prize," he throws out an arm and points, at what I assume is supposed to be out location by the tree, but misses by a long shot. "We won't be punished, we will be rewarded!"

The other shakes off Clammy hands touch on his shoulder while muttering under his breath something about getting firewood. That leaves us alone with Clammy hands himself. Time to get busy.

I realize as I start to stand a few critical things; (a) I have no weapons, (b) there is chain on my ankles and wrists, and (c) Laia is still knocked out. The later, however, has the potential to work in my favour if I play this right. She won't get hurt, at least. Clammy hands looks up at me from cleaning dirt under his finger nails with a blade, a wicked grin plastered on his face.

"Have a nice nap," he asks sarcastically. I don't bother responding; instead I step out and swing the first punch. The chains, being poorly designed, allow for a lot of movement, however not enough to fully get any force behind the throw without raise my other hand along with it. And that hand needs to be down at my side prepared for when he throws a punch at my stomach, which is just what he does.

I have the benefit of catching him off guard. Clammy hands, though big and bulky, isn't very graceful. After the first empty punch his balance waivers. I knew I've found my way in when he throws another poorly aimed punch and nearly trips over his feet. I start to wonder how he ever became a Mask when his right hook catches me across the face and I stumble backwards; certain he shattered a few bones.

Blood pools immediately in my mouth, the copper tang filling my throat. I dart away just in time to miss another blow to the head. "Traitor," he snarls, before throwing another punch to my stomach this one I can't avoid, by take the opportunity of his bent position to twist my hands over his head, securing the chain connecting my wrists around his throat. With raspy breaths I pull tight, his back to my chest. He gurgles and fights, stomping on my feet and waving his fists behind him in a madman's fury. It's over quickly. The Mask sags against the chains, and I push him off with my now aching feet, but not before muttering a few choice curse words into his ear. I'm staring down at the sad remains of him when a fist catches me across the cheek.

I fly through the air, certain that I've crushed entire limbs upon landing. The other Mask looms over me with a sinister snarl. In one hand he holds a long branch off a tree with multiple spikes jetting out, the perfect instrument for breaking bones. He lets out a low growl like a predator tracking a prey. I manage to pull myself up while he throws a glance over at the corpse of a man who was just so recently arguing with him.

A growl echoes through the woods, the only warning to another incoming attack. My legs react quicker than my brain and I manage to dodge the first blow, but the second lands square in my chest. I stumble back, the chains around my ankles catching on a tree root, and I almost fall again. He has the front of my shirt in a fist, pulling me forward.

"You killed him," He snarls, moist breathe infesting my breathing air.

I sputter out a response, despite his choking hold on my airway, "And your next."

The Mask, Bad breath I decide, snarls again. "I'm going to kill you slowly, painfully. Then," he paused, casting me an almost humorous grin, "I'm going to kill her." Laia.

Another nasty smiles forms on his lips, then I'm watching his head jerk to the side and his face go slack. His hold releases and he stumbles. Beyond all odds, Laia is standing in Bad breath's spot, an equally grotesque looking branch in her hands. The chains hang heavy against her wrists, but if they bother her she doesn't let on.

"No you won't," Laia pants, blowing a stray piece of hair out of her face, then she meets my eyes. Her eyes are calm while I imagine mine are swirling riptides, ready to drown and destroy anything they met. She gaps (or maybe she's just breathing heavy?) for a few moments before seemingly regaining composure and stumbling through a string of words. "We should go."

It's a statement but she poses it like a question. "We should," I agree, avoiding her careful, examining eyes. I don't want to see the pity in them when she finally comes to her senses and realizes what I did. I might not feel remorse about it, but she's still good, and she will.

I step over the unconscious body of the Mask, making sure to land a well aimed kick to the groin. Laia's eyes pierce by back as I rummage through Clammy hand's jacket to find the keys to the chains.

"Here," I toss her the key after I've unlocked my own chains. They drop with empty weight and I rub the raw skin along my wrists. I sneak a glance over my shoulder. Her matted hair hangs over one shoulder while she struggles to unlock the chains. I could turn back around, pretend I never saw her struggling, she didn't ask for help anyway. But I don't.

"Let me." I rest my hand on her wrist and take the key, clicking the lock with an easy twist of the key. The chains on her wrists drop and her posture straightens at the lost weight.

"I can do the rest," she mumbles, taking the key back. I don't remember letting her hand go but I know it feels strange not to feel her reassuring presence. The last of the chains hit the forest floor with a soft thud. "We need to go."

Laia marches past as if her ankles aren't bloody and raw like mine. She stops at the Mask's fallen body, the corpse of Clammy hands, to scoop up his pack then carries on back the way they dragged us. I snatch the second pack off Bad breath and pause for a moment, considering if we should hide the bodies, but decide against it. The wolves will clean up for us anyway.

She's several paces ahead when I catch up to her. We walk in silence for a while, more due to the fact she doesn't look in the spirit for conversation, not that I can find anything to say. I finally settle on, "It will be dark soon."

She doesn't spare me a glance. "So?"

"We should make camp." I cringe at sounding just like that Mask.

"We should keep moving, make up for lost time."

I grab her hand, suddenly wondering if there is more to her words. "Laia."

"We're wasting time!" She looks crazed, and for a split second I think its fear.

"And we'll be wasting more time if darkness comes and we end up wandering in the wrong direction," I respond. We've seen enough weird things in the day, who knows what comes out at night, but I don't tell her that.

Laia assess me the way an instructor used to at Blackcliff. Unnerving chills tingle down my spine. She talks quietly, calmly, "How did they catch you?"

"What?"

"How did they catch you," she repeats like I have less than three brain cells. Lately, I've been feeling like that might be true.

"They snuck up on me, that's all. I never saw them coming -."

"You always see them coming," she mutters, then pauses and looks up at me like I'm some undiscovered creature from a foreign world. "You're lying."

"What?"

"You always see them coming. I knew it didn't add up but," she pauses taking a breath and it occurs to me how close we could to be to the Mask's camp. Are they close enough to hear us now? It also occurs to me how close we are but I decide to try and ignore that. I fail. "I didn't think you were the kind to sell me out."

I take a blade to the chest.

"I would never sell you out," I sputter; astonished she could think anything of the sort.

"Then how did they catch you," she asks, emphasizing every word.

"I was distracted!"

I catch her off guard with my response. She looks up through hair, confused. "Distracted?"

"Yeah, Laia," I mutter, rubbing the back of my neck. "Distracted."

"What was distracting -." I see it the moment she figures it out. Her pupils widen and she looks like she wants to shrink so small the world could shallow her whole. I didn't need to say anything, she knew. I thought she had known before, but maybe we are on much different pages than I had ever thought.

"Elias," she whispers. She's shaking her head.

"I'm sorry," I mutter wanting to reach out for her hand, her arm, anything to reassure her I never wanted to harm her.

"We're wasting time," she repeats.

I mistake the meaning of her words, thinking she's gone back to the subject of keeping moving. "I know you think so, but its best to set up camp."

"No, Elias. _We_ are wasting time."

"Laia?"

" _We_ are wasting time." The sun disappears as she walks away, her back to me.

The blade twists in to my heart.


End file.
